Blade of Light
by Dogger
Summary: Ten years after the fall of the Republic, a new force user emerges from the shadows of Vader's past. An interology tale.
1. Prologue

_**Blade of Light **_

**Prologue **

Silently, he waited. The cool, crisp autumn breeze twirled around him, softly, almost tentative. As if the very air itself was unsure of his presence. The forest floor swayed and sang with the twilight calls of a thousand creatures alien to him. The brush rustled with curiosity, as small predators darted to and fro, trying to catch a glimpse or, more likely, a whiff of him. Primitive minds focused on one thing: if this foreign presence might somehow be converted into a meal. Behind them, in the trees, larger things, more malevolent, stirred silently, minds not focused on if, but when.

He felt it all. Eyes shut, he felt all of it, the amazing, nearly overwhelming presence of these creatures in the force, connected yet separate from him, teeming with life energy all possessed, but none fully perceived. And not just the creatures – the forest itself was alive, massive plant colonies and towering vines and tress stretching so far up only the thinning air itself hindered their growth. Here, the only distinction between day and night was the temperature.

Slowly, he reached out with the force, barely extending his senses beyond his immediate area. Still more life trembled here, a nearby river lighting up the force like a beacon. Creatures flying and climbing. All of it joining together and forming a river of energy, rushing all around him. For too long, he had shut himself off from that river.

No longer

The weapon in his hand was symbolic tonight. He was not here to hunt. He was here to feel the force. He was here to let it wash him and cleanse him, purifying him in its torrent. His blade would harm nothing. But it would be a part of him, an extension of his will, and matters beyond his will. It would be a physical manifestation of his experience and training. The outward expression of everything about him that was not of the physical world.

"Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter"

Indeed.

Silently, he let his robe drop to the ground. He assumed the classical ready pose. Briefly, he let himself sense the river apart from him, feeling the creatures stalking him startle, suddenly unsure of themselves. A brief smile tugged at his lips.

Closing his eyes once again, he breathed deeply, and opened himself to the torrent. Felt it flow into every fiber of his being. Felt it mix and match his own luminosity, the power of its brightness like a white hot ember in his heart, mixing with the joy and the love and the sadness and the grief and the honor and the memories and the promise that resonated with one name at the core of his being.

Silently he whispered the word to the cool night air.

"Isabella"

In his right hand the saber blazed to life, illuminating the blackness with a brilliant green glow. And he began to move.

Half a galaxy away, on a world of duracrete and glass, a withered old man sat bolt upright in his bed. 


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 **

Vader stalked the halls underneath the Galactic Senate. He knew that he would be summoned, but that did nothing to improve his mood. He hated this building, hated every time he had to come here. He longed for the day when the Emperor would rid the galaxy of these strutting politicos with their fawning staff members and over inflated senses of importance. Even now, after a decade of the Galactic Empire, so many had yet to figure out exactly what their role was in the grand scheme. His Master still contended that the Senate had its uses. He strongly doubted that, and wondered if the Emperor knew of the whispered meetings and backroom innuendo that was beginning to fuel something that might one day develop into outright treason.

Of course, the dark voice inside him whispered fleetingly that Vader's distaste had nothing at all to do with politics. As quickly as it surfaced, he buried the thought in a firestorm of internal fury. Such thoughts were a path to weakness. His former life could never be totally buried, a fact that he had grown to accept over the past few years. Still, those memories and emotions had no place in his life now. He strove to avoid all situations that might resurface something that he would just as soon forget. That was difficult here on Coruscant. And the primary reason he spent so little time here. That wish blended nicely with the Emperor's obvious but never-stated plan to keep him hidden, a whispered menace in palaces and temples, real but never acknowledged. His place was on the bridge of his Star Destroyer, carrying out his master's will on a thousand different worlds.

Just not this one.

Certain eventualities, however, demanded he meet his Master face to face. Certainly what had happened three days ago qualified. He had been on his bridge, staring into the void around some nameless star, when he had felt it. He had ordered Ozzel to set a course for Coruscant the minute the disturbance had ended, before Palpatine had even summoned him. He knew what this had meant.

He strode into the Emperor's office below the Senate chamber. There Palpatine sat his back to Vader, lost in some private meditation with the dark side. His Master was powerful, Vader knew – so much more powerful than even he had known when he started down this path. From this distance, he could feel the waves of dark energy and menace flowing off him. Without preamble, he stooped to a knee in front of the desk, the only sound in the office the cold mechanical sound of Vader's breathing.

Palpatine kept him waiting a few minutes, as he always did, while he finished whatever dark commiseration he was engaged in. Finally, he turned around in his chair.

"Leave us" he told his guards. The red-robed figures disappeared down the hallway.

"Rise" he told Vader. Standing upright, Vader looked upon the pale sunken face of his Master, still scarred from his battle with Mace Windu. Vader often wondered if the old Jedi Master had really gotten the better of that fight, or if it was simply another layer in Palpatine's plan. More than likely, it was the later.

"There is a great disturbance in the force"

"Yes, My Master"

"I thought all the Jedi had been eradicated"

"Not all"

Palpatine's eyes flared with impatience.

"If you are referring to your continued inability to find Yoda and Kenobi, I am well aware. That particular failure of yours is nearly a decade old"

Vader felt the bile rising in what was left of his throat at the rebuke. He bit back his anger and maintained his focus.

"Yes, My Master"

"Was this them?"

It was fortunate that the cursed mask hid his features, for surely the Emperor would have seen his look of surprise. Palpatine did not know. Or perhaps this was just a test.

"No, My Master, I do not think so. I know for certain it was not Kenobi. I do not think it was Yoda either. Surely that old troll must be dead by now"

"Perhaps. What makes you so sure this was not them?"

Vader considered a moment before answering. "Jedi have a unique signature in the force. At least they always have to me. It has been a long time, but I would certainly know my old master's signature if it was him. I'm fairly certain I would know Yoda's too. This was…. different"

Palpatine raised a withered eyebrow.

"Explain"

"It felt….. Odd. Strong. It was primarily light sided, but not exclusively. It did not feel like a Jedi. But it did feel familiar."

"And whatever it was, it was powerful"

"Indeed." Palpatine spat "Powerful enough to carry across the galaxy and wake me. We are either dealing with a hero or a fool, for nobody else would make himself so obvious. And yet you say it was not a Jedi"

"No, my Master" Vader began carefully. "The Temple records confirm it. The Jedi are in their graves, save two."

Palpatine stared long and hard at his apprentice. "Then whomever or whatever this is, must be dealt with. Swiftly. We are at a very critical juncture, Lord Vader"

Even behind his mask, Vader could not help but start "What do you mean? Your rule is absolute"

When the Emperor said nothing, Vader continued "If you are referring to the disloyal elements in the Senate….."

Palpatine waved a withered hand "Those fools will do as they are told. The disloyal elements will be dealt with. No Lord Vader, what I have sensed…."

After a long pause, he continued "There is…. something coming. A vergance in the force. The same sort of vergance I felt at the end of the clone wars. Events are being set in motion that will profoundly affect the future of the Empire"

Vader considered this. Had any other being in the galaxy made such a statement, Vader would have informed him he was a raving madman, before executing him. The Empire had only grown stronger, politically and militarily, over the past 5 years. After the predictable resistance at the dawn of the Empire, the local star systems had only been too happy to fall in line, once one or two examples were made. The Senate was under both the political and personal dominance of his Master, disloyal elements aside. The Jedi were all but eradicated. Yoda and Kenobi were either dead or in hiding. The galaxy pulsed and flowed with the dark side. It was the glorious realization of Palpatine's grand vision. An Empire to last a thousand years.

And yet his Master was worried.

"You must find who or what is responsible for this disturbance, my apprentice. Find it and destroy it"

"Yes, My Master"

"The fool was unwise to make himself known to us. That will be his undoing. You know where to begin?"

"Yes, My Master, in general terms. The disturbance was located in the Son Canor system."

"Go then"

With a slight bow, Vader took his leave. He was concerned not at all with this new disturbance in the force. It would meet its end soon enough. For now, he reveled in the opportunity to be off this cursed world, out among the empty void of the stars. Only now, he would be doing something he had not done in quite a while. Pursue quarry.

He was on the hunt.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Silently, he drifted in the blackness. The lights of a thousand different suns blazed in his view, impossibly distant. Yet he felt them, felt the beings that inhabited its worlds, and again marveled at the force. The galaxy was so well organized, so grand in design and so complex in execution. Mature stars supporting all manner of inhabitable worlds, faithfully providing all the essentials of life, until such a time impossibly distant in the future that, spent, they expel their heavy elements to the cosmos in violent death throws, perhaps to join with other matter in some distant nebula, starting the entire process again.

Few of the beings on these worlds could fully comprehend time on this scale. He was no different. He knew that the light from these stars originated thousands of years before the concerns of the Republic and the Jedi and the Sith and the Empire. They would remain thousands of years after those concerns had been swept away, even in memory. The force was majestic and eternal and timeless.

But he was not.

"Be mindful of the living force."

He still remembered the frown that came to his Master's face when Qui-Gon had gently rebuked him during that particular assignment. Initially, he had been disappointed in the assignment. Yoda had sent two Jedi to resolve a border dispute involving a shared moon in a binary system. The inhabitants had been at war for generations over the moon, a dispute he had believed was especially foolhardy, since the moon was little more than a barren rock. He had expressed this sentiment on the journey to the conference that would settle the matter.

He had been a bit taken aback.

"The living force, Master Qui-Gon?"

"Yes, Padawan."

"But the dispute centers on a religious ritual that is cyclical. Every 5 years, prior to the ritual, the faction not controlling the moon commences hostilities. Even if we resolve the current conflict, how long will the peace hold?"

A small smile tugged at his lips. Obi Wan shuffled uncomfortably at his side.

"Does that make the matter any less worthy of our attention? Because the peace will most likely not be permanent?"

Now it was his turn to look uncomfortable. "Of course not Master, but as Jedi shouldn't we strive for a better outcome than a temporary truce? Aren't our efforts wasted on those that do not truly wish to lay down arms?"

"Five years can be a long time, Padawan. Think of how much suffering can be alleviated in that time. How many lives can be spared. How attitudes and prejudices can be overcome."

"But Master…"

"That's enough."

He turned his head toward his Master's voice, noting, as he always did, the unmistakable tone of disapproval.

From the head of the table, Mace Windu looked reproachfully at him. "Perhaps if you spent as much time practicing your saber skills as you do questioning the will of the council, you would be ready for your trials."

His cheeks flushed red. His tone, however, was anything but conciliatory

"Yes, Master."

Mace looked at Qui-Gon. "The negotiations will be laced with ceremony and symbolism. I think our two young apprentices would do well to review our itinerary, along with the history and tradition of the Baloshains"

"Indeed. Obi-Wan, take Del and uplink to the Jedi Archives. I want a full report by the time we arrive in system."

"Yes, Master" He still remembered the reproachful look Kenobi had given him as they took their leave, and the conversation that followed as they made their way to the communications center.

"Must you always question the will of the council, Del?"

"Come on, Ben. The Council is comprised of Jedi. Old and wise, to be sure, but not infallible"

As always, Obi-Wan frowned a little at hearing the nickname.

"I wish you wouldn't call me that. How many years before I outgrow that particular moniker?"

Del chuckled "You'll always be Ben to me... Some things we'll never outgrow. Besides, nobody else calls you that anymore. All our old friends…."

Obi Wan nodded, and Del didn't finish the thought. The way of the Jedi was hard, and many Younglings never apprenticed to a Master. Still more were sent home during the first grueling year of being a Padawan, the period known as The Crucible. Of the many friends he and Obi Wan had had during their childhood, nearly all we're gone from the Temple.

Del smiled as he sat down at the terminal and began the log on procedure for the Archive uplink. Obi Wan had been the first of the group to be apprenticed, and never let a chance slip when he returned from his adventures with Qui Gon to remind his friends of his travels. "I've been here, I've been there, Qui Gon and I have been to this system and that system and….."

And so, Del had bestowed upon him the nickname Ben. Of course, Obi Wan had protested, which had the effect of cementing the nickname among their group of friends. Now, Del was the only one left that called him that. The nickname didn't really suit him anymore, as Obi Wan had grown strong and wise, the mature model of a good Padawan. But habits between old friends are hard things to break, and the nickname bound each of them to their shared past.

But something else was troubling him, and Obi Wan was quick to pick up on it.

"The Council has overseen Jedi affairs for a thousand years. Why do you have so little faith in them?'

Del considered. "I don't know. Maybe I have an issue with authority. Mace would certainly agree I lack humility before my elders."

Obi Wan barely hid a smile. "But it's not just that."

"No." He let out a long sigh. "I don't know Ben…. Do you think we are as strong as we should be?"

"You and I? Of course not. We have much to learn. Sometimes I wonder if we'll ever make it to our trials."

"No. All of us. The Jedi Order. Collectively."

Obi Wan gave him a long stare "To be perfectly honest, I haven't. My studies and my training take up all my time. Even during my down time, I'm thinking ahead to the next test or the next mission."

"So am I, for the most part. It's just…. I don't know. A nagging feeling I get sometimes. I mean, how often do the members of the council even leave Coruscant? Being on the Council means giving up normal Jedi duties – missions, formal teaching, taking a Padawan. I'm not sure that it wise."

"The demands on the Council are great. I'm not sure any of them would have the time to devote to the duties of a normal Jedi."

"Yeah, but it has the effect of isolating them. They spend half of their time debating the actions of the Senate. They are increasingly getting caught up in politics and bureaucracy."

"That is part of their function"

"I know. But we're losing our connection to the force."

Obi Wan frowned. This is not something Padawans were supposed to discuss. But Del knew that Obi Wan sensed it too. It felt like… an ebbing. A gradual, barely perceptible weakening. A receding tide. In his youth, the force seemed grand and wondrous and all powerful. Opening himself to it felt like a flood of pure energy, wild and uncontrolled and potent.

With time and practice, he had learned how to control that flood, to channel its energy and power, to direct it and be directed at the same time. But something had happened during this process, something hard to define. I wasn't that the force itself was weaker that he remembered in his youth – he could still feel it, churning at the edge of his perception when he opened himself to it. No, it was as if his connection, the nebulous thing that made him an integral part of the process, had somehow shorted out. More than that, it was weakening. Such things were hard to define and impossible to quantify, but he had no doubt that he did not feel the force as powerfully as he had in his youth. At first he wondered if that wasn't how all Jedi felt as they grew in their ability, as something wild and untamed and felt in one's youth would naturally seem less powerful when one was older and more experienced at dealing with it.

But he was not alone in his perception. He heard whispers around the temple, overheard conversations between experienced Jedi that revealed they too felt the ebb. And what is more, they did not know the reason why.

Obi Wan had heard the whispers too. "I'm not sure the Council's activities have anything to do with that. Most think it's a natural phenomenon. They say in time our connection to the force will re-assert itself."

"I'm not so sure."

"Have you talked to Mace about this?"

A dark shadow fell across Del's face. He shook his head grimly. "He wouldn't want to hear it."

Obi Wan looked serious for a moment, then smiled and shook his head. "Well, we certainly aren't going to solve all the problems of the Jedi before we reach Balos. And I know a couple of Jedi Masters who are liable to force us out an airlock if we don't get this report done in time."

For a moment, a dark shadow persisted, and then Del's face broke into a familiar smile. "Leave it to you, Ben, to keep me focused. Let's get this done."

***

So many years ago. When he looked down at his controls, he saw that he was pointed at a binary system further along the outer rim.

Good a place as any, he thought, as he smoothly moved the hyperdrive levers forward. 


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 **

The void.

Only a thin transparasteel sheet separated Vader from it. Black and cold and impossibly empty. Even now, the air on the Star Destroyer hungered for it, yearned and clawed for release from its artificial prison. It pressed without ceasing into the walls of his ship, searching for the tiniest of openings from which to escape, even though such release would mean its end as a discernable entity.

He found no small irony in this.

A decade, he thought. 10 years since Mustafar. 10 years since he had been entombed in this machine, kept alive by its steady machinations.

Longer than he had been a slave to Watto.

As long as he had been apprenticed to Obi-Wan.

Longer than he had been married to…..

Had anybody been able to see behind his black mask, they would have seen his gaze falter for just an instant, de-focusing on the void of stars displayed on the tiny screens that now showed him the galaxy..

These thoughts were a weakness. He knew this. He tried to train himself to deny them, but they seemed to be invading his shattered mind more and more of late. They were not welcome.

10 years since he had lost her. It hardly seemed possible. The galaxy had moved and turned and been almost completely re-worked in that time. His master had schemed and terrorized and consolidated the power of his glorious Empire. He had hunted and killed and grown stronger in the dark side. Things changed. Things remained the same. The force ebbed with light and pulsed with darkness.

All without her.

All because of him.

As always he felt the jabbing pain that knowledge caused him. He had heard simpletons use the platitude that time heals all wounds. Some of the fools might even believe it, but he knew it was a vile lie. The pain was as fresh and as new as the day he awoke in this coffin and his master informed him that he had murdered his wife and unborn child.

_He had…_

You killed her.

Beneath the mask, he squeezed his eyes shut.

_You murdered Padme._

Even after all this time, it still didn't seem possible. The reality of that simple thought nearly took his breath away.

Had the machine let it.

Why these unbidden thoughts were surfacing now he did not know. Maybe that made him weak.

Still, he was Sith. He took that pain and centered it. As he stared into the endless black, he focused it and let it fuel his rage, feeling the force flow from that connection. Feeling it strengthen him and wash him in pure malevolence. He had long since discovered his grief could make him powerful. That power was as real and as tangible as his pain.

It almost made it worth it.

Almost.

_You… murdered… _

"Lord Vader?"

Ozzel. The interruption did nothing to improve his mood.

"What is it, Captain?"

"Our preliminary scans of the 5th planet are complete. They show no settlements or structures. Detailed scans from our sensor ships show no preliminary hits for any ship like structures. No artificial power sources were discovered."

The obvious tone of his voice suggested Ozzel found his current assignment little more than a wild goose chase. Understandable, but Vader felt no inclination to explain his orders.

He reached out with the force, probing the space around this system, examining the odd tug he had felt at the edge of his consciousness since arriving here. San Canor, like the rest of the galaxy, pulsed and flowed with the dark side, but here and there he felt odd pockets of….

Something. Unfocused and scattered. Remnants of a force presence that had the same familiarity as what he and the Emperor had felt. So very faint they might have escaped detection by …

"My Lord?"

"A moment, Captain" Vader growled. He was in no mood to coddle Ozzel's reservations.

Even the Emperor might have missed this ebb of the force, as faint as it was. But the familiarity of it tugged at Vader. It hinted at something known but forgotten.

Or perhaps something known but different now somehow, a presence at once recognized but changed. And the faint burn of it in his mind hinted at impressive power.

Interesting.

He turned and brought the full weight of his attention on Ozzel. "Concentrate your search on the space surrounding the 5th planet. See if you can pick up an ion trail, or some other evidence of a ship passing recently. See if you can find a bearing. Something was here. I want to know where it went."

To his credit, Ozzel snapped to immediate attention. "Yes, My Lord." His tone held some exasperation but more fear, that he may not be able to deliver what Vader had demanded.

Good.

"I will be in my quarters. Report to me with your findings."

With no further word, Vader stalked off his bridge and toward his chambers. There was much to consider.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

What in the name of the force had brought him to this rock?

He made his way down the dirt street, covered by his robes. The heat was beyond oppressive, and the lack of open shops and bustling crowds told him that most of the commerce here was not conducted during the heat of the day. Del had never minded the heat, but this was something beyond his experience. It was suffocating. It baked everything in sight, drowning out all color and coating all with the same bleached tan glow. It sapped one's energy, making even the simplest of movement a physical challenge. The intensity of the twin suns made covering up a necessity, but doing so made one all the more susceptible to heat stroke, or worse. And then there was the sand.

It was everywhere. It was seared into the buildings. It coated all streets and roads. It clinged to his boots and robes so thoroughly no amount of brushing or cleaning would ever remove it entirely. Every movement produced rough abrasion with the skin, where it had seeped through his clothes. In general, he loved the outdoors, and during his time on Coruscant he was amazed to find that there were people, even Jedi, who spent their entire lives in artificial indoor environments. But this was something else. He was stunned that life could exist here at all. It was arid and wind torn and about as inhospitable an environment for life as he could remember.

Yet by will of the force he was here.

Del made no pretensions at being a seer. Occasionally, during sleep, he would get a brief flash of some unimportant future event that would eventually come to transpire, but nothing like the visions that Yoda and other Masters could call upon, seemingly at will. His old Master had been particularly adept at finding fault lines and breaking points in the force – events which would mold and shape the galaxy for years afterwards. Mace had always insisted that he had that ability within him, if he would open himself to it, but he had always felt his strength in the force was elsewhere. And he had no doubt that the force wanted him on this arid bowl of dust right now.

Not really paying conscious attention to where he was going, he trudged toward the city gates.

Smiling, he recalled one dream he had of Bella, blue flower in her hair and wearing a stunning yellow dress, in a meadow on a hilltop overlooking Glabra. He had thought nothing of it at the time, until a few weeks later when she had asked him to meet her at The Overlook for a picnic the next day. As he had left to run his daily errands, leaving as he always did before she was awake, he had taken particular pleasure in leaving her a note in her transport expressing appreciation for the outfit she chose and how her choice of blooms complimented her long dark flowing hair. His only regret was being unable to see the look of shock on her face when she read the note. He did, however, enjoy the look of wonder and flattery on her face when he explained himself later in the meadow, and the sweet huskiness in her voice as she gently cursed "that damn force business" as she slid into his arms.

Thoughts of that day lightened his mood and quickened his step, and soon he was leaving Anchorhead behind. The day was quickly waning, and he was thankful when the smaller of the two suns scorching this place finally dipped below the horizon. That same force that had led him to her now wanted him here. He had no idea for what purpose, however. His Master had always preached patience and caution. Mace Windu would have had a plan for Tatooine long before arriving in system, and if for some reason he didn't he would have meditated on his ship until he had a full awareness of what his purpose was and a detailed plan of how to achieve his goals. He surely wouldn't be out here wandering the dunes, searching for something unknown.

But Mace was not here. He was dead.

Del felt the jab of pain that knowledge always brought. All that foresight and neither he nor Yoda nor the rest of the council could see the Sith Master right underneath their noses….

His thoughts were broken by what felt like a sudden flash of light in his mind. He stopped his rather brisk pace and concentrated.

_What the hell was….. _

The second flash hit him suddenly and hard, driving the wind from his lungs and forcing him to a knee. In his mind's eye he saw a young boy, about 10 years old, standing in front of a small tower. The boy was tinkering around inside, seemingly trying to fix the contraption. Through the boy's eyes, he saw mechanical parts lift themselves into place, fit themselves the way they should. He shut the door to the maintenance port and gently touched the side of the machine, feeling it vibrate to life.

_Luke? Luke…. what did you do?_

_I fixed it Uncle Owen!_

_But how…. I was going to have to come out here later with the repair droid and…_

_I fixed it!_

_Listen to me … you are not to fix any more of these vaporators unless I'm with you. Is that understood?_

_But I…._

_I asked you if that is understood!_

Gradually, the vision grew dark. But again Del felt another ripple in the force, as if something was attempting to suppress the first vision, to "block its signal" for lack of a better term. He wanted to stretch out with his feelings, make contact with either or both of these force presences. It had been years since he had felt another force user so close, since he had felt something besides this all-encompassing darkness that the galaxy was drowning in.

But he didn't. He couldn't. He didn't know who or what this was. He didn't know if this vision was a ripple of the past, or a premonition of the future. Or neither. 10 years of living under the Galactic Empire had taught him caution when revealing his force sensitivity to others. More often than not, suspicion and fear greeted such a revelation.

No, he would wait. Perhaps it was time he followed his Master's example and meditated before pressing onward. Some consideration and calm might light his way. He spotted an outcropping of rock at the base of one of the Dunes he had been traversing. The outcropping was just low enough on the rock to provide a bit of shade in the waning afternoon heat. 


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 **

He still remembered Yoda's teaching on meditations. It had never been his strong suit, but these weren't exactly normal times.

"The force is strong, and know you, it does. When you are at peace, things you will see. Faces, places, old friends long gone."

***

Del stood at the bank of lifts, lost in thought. The Temple was abuzz with activity this time of day. Jedi, Padawans, and Younglings bustled back and forth, most lost in muted conversation with each other or concentrating on whatever task they were attending to at the moment. At times like this the Temple most resembled a large university , with beings from all over the galaxy engaged in debate and discussion.

Much of it, he knew, centered on the events of the past few weeks and the troubling revelation that the Sith were back. Of course, as with any large group of people, there would be those who disagreed with that conclusion, but in Del's mind it was the only correct one. Something was stirring in the galaxy, something Del had not felt in his lifetime. There was a vague dark new undercurrent to the force. He could feel it when he meditated, when he trained. It was slight and it was elusive, but there was no doubt it was real.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a familiar face. Well, a mostly familiar face, anyway. He broke out in a large smile.

"Everybody hide, it's a Tradoshian fur beast!"

Obi-Wan spotted his friend and matched Del's smile with his own. "Del! I was wondering when I would run into you."

He caught Obi-Wan up in a huge bear hug. It had been far too long.

Obi-Wan smiled as Del set him back down again, rubbing the stubble on his face thoughtfully. "Come now, it doesn't look that bad does it? Another week and I think it will be quite distinguished."

Del couldn't hide the playfulness in his voice. "Oh yes. Another week. Quite distinguished indeed. You can always tell the wise Jedi Masters by their beards, I always say."

Obi-Wan chuckled and looked down at the young boy following him at his side. "Del, there's somebody I would like you to meet."

"Of course. This must be the new Padawan I've been hearing so much about."

"Anakin Skywalker, I'd like you to meet Del Serenta. Del and I grew up here together. He is my oldest friend in the Temple."

The young boy shyly offered his hand. "It is an honor to meet you, sir."

Del grasped the boy's hand warmly in both of his. He was amazed at how strongly the force shone in this one, raw and bright. Perhaps the whisperings he had been hearing around the Temple were true. "The honor is mine, Anakin. And you can dispense with the 'sir' business. Any friend of your Master can call me Del. I hear you are quite a pilot."

Anakin's cheeks turned red as he mumbled out an embarrassed "Thanks."

Del turned his attention to Obi-Wan, placing a strong hand on his shoulder. "Ben, I was so sorry to hear about Qui-Gon. I wanted to come to Naboo when I heard, but Mace insisted I stay here. I was deep in preparation for my trials and…."

A pained expression came over Obi-Wan's face and he nodded solemnly. "Thank You Del. And I understand. There is much I would like to discuss with you about that, when you have the time."

"No time like the present. Have you had lunch?"

"Not yet. Anakin, call the lift for us. Do you remember what floor the dining hall is on?"

The young boy brightened at the question. "Yes, sir. Level 10. They have the best sandwiches there." He stepped forward and hit the button for the lift for the appropriate level.

"Speaking of your trials, Del, how did they go?"

A vaguely troubled look came over Del's face. Almost imperceptible, but he knew Ben would pick up on it. "Well, I think. They've got me waiting while the Council makes their decision. It's been a week now. We shall see. Actually, there's some aspects of that I would like to discuss with you also."

Obi-Wan nodded thoughtfully as Anakin impatiently hit the button for the lift again. "This thing is SLOW."

Obi-Wan frowned and was about to offer a gentle rebuke, when he noticed the wry smile on Del's face.

"Hmmmmm. Careful, young Skywalker," Del said, making his voice go up and falsetto just enough to be a dead on impersonation of Master Yoda. "Hitting the lift button more than once, a path to the dark side it is."

Del watched the boy break out into a large grin. He might have even laughed, had his eyes not gone wide and a nearly panicked expression taken hold an instant later.

Del became aware of two very familiar presences behind him.

He sighed. Of course.

He turned around to see his Master wearing an all-too-familiar horrified expression on his face. Next to him, expression neutral as always, was Master Yoda. Del stole a sidelong glance at Obi-Wan as Yoda trudged forward. His old friend looked as if he were using every force power in his arsenal to not burst out laughing.

Yoda stopped next to Anakin, who looked like he wished the ground would swallow him up right there. Turning and looking Del directly in the eye, he brought his walking stick up and jabbed at the lift button, hitting it yet again. His only comment was a wrinkle of his aged brow and a slight "Hmmmmph."

"Master Windu. Required your presence is, and that of your student, in Council Chambers."

Del's eyes went wide as Mace stepped up next to him. "Of course, Master Yoda." Mace said. "We will be there directly."

Del's stomach was doing flip flops. They had reached a decision.

"Provided, of course, we can get the lifts to function." Ben knew just how to twist the knife. Del shot him a glance. He wasn't even trying to hide his glee at the situation.

"Well Ben, I guess we'll have to get that lunch another time."

"Indeed. Let me know when you are free. We have much to discuss."

He felt Obi-Wan's eyes on him as he turned to Anakin. Ben knew something was not quite right.

"It was very nice to have met you Anakin. I hope I can regale you with stories of your Master sometime in the near future."

Anakin's face brightened at the prospect. "I would like that very much Si…..er, I mean, Del."

Two lifts picked just that instant to arrive, causing him to glance at Yoda and wonder. The Old Jedi Master's expression was, as always, distinctly neutral as he, Mace and Del stepped onto the lift.

**

The antechamber was silent. One of the truly amazing things about the Temple was how it managed to provide so many peaceful settings in which to meditate in the middle of the busiest planet in the galaxy. He felt the life teeming all around him, but only in the force. The Temple's ancient designers had made sure that the insanity of Coruscant would not intrude on the serenity of the Jedi. The silence allowed him to focus, but he was in turmoil. He knew and understood without a shadow of a doubt that the decisions made in the next few minutes would alter the course of his life. What he couldn't shake was a nagging sensation that the repercussions of what was to follow would have far greater impact than just his destiny.

"We're ready."

Silently Del rose and faced his Master. With a slight nod of his head, Mace turned and headed toward the chamber door.

"Master."

Silently, Mace turned to face him.

Del let out a long sigh, then looked Mace squarely in the eye. "Whatever happens in there, I want you to know how much I have appreciated having you as my teacher. I know I have been a difficult and headstrong student. I know having me as your Padawan delayed your appointment to the council."

"I'm not sure what the future holds for either of us. But no matter what, you will always have my admiration and respect."  
>Mace smiled and bowed his head slightly in appreciation. "And you mine, Del. Come. Let's not keep the Council waiting."<p>

The door to the Council Chamber opened as they approached, and Del was mildly surprised to find it was dark inside, save for a single light in the middle of the room. He and Mace walked together to the light, and he paused slightly, indicating to Del he was to remain there. He then disappeared into the darkness ahead.

Behind him, the door slid shut, and the light surrounding him was extinguished. He stood alone in the middle of the darkened room.

Suddenly, twelve light sabers blazed to life around him, illuminating the darkness. He saw the faces of the members of the council illuminated by their weapons, and the room was bathed in a myriad of blue, green, and yellow light. Directly in front of him glowed the purple saber of his Master, flanked on either side by the green glow of Yoda and the blue saber of Ki-Adi-Mundi.

"Padawan Del Serenta." Yoda intoned. "Long has this council observed your training. Endured the trials, you have. Grown strong, you have."

"Step forward, and be welcomed as a brother knight."

Solemnly, Del moved forward, until he was standing before his Master, looking him directly in the eye, the faint purple glow of his saber illuminating them both.

"Your light saber." Deliberately, Del unholstered his weapon and handed it to his Master. One by one, the rest of the sabers around the room were extinguished, until only Mace's remained illuminated. Silently, his Master de-activated his weapon, plunging the room into darkness once more.

But only for an instant. With a faint hiss, his own saber blazed to life in his Master's hands, bathing them both in its green glow. Without prompting, he took a knee.

"Your training is complete, Padawan. You leave the title and the trials of student behind you, and take on the title and the trials of Jedi Knight." Mace brought the green blade down behind his left ear, and with a casual flick cut his Padawan braid. Del watched it fall to the floor in front of him, illuminated in green light.

Mace brought the blade up over Del's head, and solemnly began lowering it toward his other shoulder.

"On behalf of the Republic, in the name of the Jedi Order, and by the power vested in me by this sage Council. I hereby…"

Del felt his grip on his Master's wrist, preventing him from lowering the saber any further. Although in the years to come he would never have a memory of moving it there, he was not surprised to see it. Nor would he ever forget the look of shock on Mace's face as he looked up into his eyes.

"No, Master."

With a shaky breath he rose, and faced his destiny.

"I cannot."

Mace never said a word. For a long moment they stood there, staring at each other, nothing between them but his weapon. Gradually, Del became aware of the murmurs around the room from the rest of the council.

"Forgive me, Masters. I came into this room fully willing to accept whatever decision the Council had reached with regard to my future. I am honored that you feel I am worthy. But I cannot."

He looked directly at his Master. "I can offer you no other explanation, except that I believe this is the will of the force."

Eternal seconds passed by. Finally, Yoda spoke. His tone was grave. "Consider this carefully, you must. From this decision, no turning back, there is. This ceremony will not be offered a second time. Remain in the Jedi Order, you cannot."

A long pause. _So this is it_, Del thought. _I hope you know what you are doing._

"I understand, Master." Del replied, his eyes never leaving Mace's. "I'm sorry."

He heard Yoda sigh heavily. "So be it."

Finally breaking his Master's shocked, accusatory gaze, he spun and strode out of the council chambers.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 **

"What were you thinking? Have you completely taken leave of your senses?"

Del stood at the center of his room, quietly packing his meager possessions into a travel case. The presence at the door was not unexpected, but that did not relieve the feeling of dread from the conversation that was sure to fallow.

"I don't expect you to understand. This is just something I have to do."

Mace looked at him long and hard, a disquieting habit not unfamiliar to Del. His Master had a way of making his displeasure known without the use of words. He would have preferred screaming, but that was not the way of the Jedi, and of course it was not the way of Mace Windu.

"You have thrown away everything you have ever worked for."

"I don't think I have. Listen, Master …"

"It's Jedi Windu. You have relinquished the privilege of calling me Master."

A flash of annoyance ran through Del. His Master was upset, that much was certain, but he wasn't about to endure outright disrespect from him. He had been too loyal and obedient a Padawan for too many years.

"Whatever it is you wish to be called – I am doing this because I believe it is the will of the force. I am not doing it to disrespect the Order or to bring dishonor to you personally. I know my timing is poor. But this is how it has to be."

"And you couldn't have talked to me about this before now?"

"To be honest, no."

For a long time Master and student simply stared at one another, neither flinching from the other's gaze. Finally, Mace sighed and stepped forward, placing a hand on Del's shoulder.

"Talk to me now."

Del felt the moment of tension pass. He doubted he could articulate his reasons well enough to make Mace understand, but he knew he owed it to his former Master to try.

"Master, I…. "

Del struggled with the words. "Something is happening. The force has been an endless beacon of light for my lifetime. Now it has a dark undercurrent. The Sith have returned. Every fiber of my being tells me this will have profound consequences for the entire galaxy. Something is about to happen that will change the Order forever."

Mace looked at him with concern. "Have you had visions?"

"No. And I can't trace fault lines or shatterpoints like you do. I have no specifics about who, when and where. But I know it, as much as I know that you and I are standing here."

Mace considered this. "And you don't feel you could have dealt with this threat as a Jedi?"

"The threat is the Jedi."

Mace looked at him sharply. "Explain."

"We're losing our ability to connect to the force. I'm not sure why, but I do know that if we cannot find a way to stop it, we will not be able to handle the threat that is coming."

"The Jedi have been the protectors of the Republic for a thousand generations. We have dealt with the Sith before."

"Not like this. You've felt the dark undercurrent to the force. Now imagine the galaxy awash in it. Drowning in it. War. Famine. Suffering and death. A Sith Empire to last a thousand generations."

"That is what is coming."

Long moments passed as Mace considered this, eyes never leaving Del's. Slowly he nodded. "That is not something the Council is going to be willing to accept. Not at this point, anyway."

"I know. And as a Jedi I would be bound to the will of the Council. I would have no freedom to be able to explore what specifically this threat is, or be able to try and figure out why we are losing our abilities."

"And that is what you intend to do?"

"Yes."

"How?"

Del frowned. "I have absolutely no idea. Believe me, it was not an easy decision."

Mace let out a long sigh. "If what you say is true, many Jedi are going to look to the prophecy of the Chosen One to restore balance."

"Obi-Wan's student?"

"Yes. Qui-Gon believed he was the Chosen One. If the threat you described is real, then many Jedi will see him as their salvation."

Del nodded slowly. As always, his Master was able to see ramifications and consequences so clearly. "He is strong. But that's an insane burden to put on a 9 year old boy."

"I agree. But I was overruled."

With a troubled look, Mace zipped up Del's bag and handed it to him. Del took it with a nod, looking one last time around his room.

"Where will you go now?"

"I don't know. I've spent my entire life in this Temple, except the missions I went on with you. I know almost nothing of the galaxy outside Coruscant. There's an answer out there somewhere, I just have to figure out how to find it."

Mace nodded, then hesitated, as if considering something. He then reached into his belt and withdrew Del's lightsaber. Without a word of explanation, he extended it toward Del.

"Master, I appreciate it, but I'm not a Jedi…."

"Jedi or no, you are a remarkable swordsman. And no student of mine is going to venture out into the galaxy defenseless."

With a small nod of appreciation Del reached for the hilt. Mace hung on to the other end as he grabbed it, looking directly into Del's eyes.

"Although you do not carry the title of Jedi, you carry the responsibility of one. I give you this blade with the understanding that it will be used in service of the light. Do not make me regret this decision."

Del nodded slowly and solemnly, suddenly feeling grief at the center of his being. He was leaving the only family he had ever known, and this man, whom he had just embarrassed in front of the Council, was the only father he had ever known.

"You have my word."

Without another sound, Mace spun and left Del alone with his thoughts, the sunset bathing the Temple grounds outside his window crimson.

It looked for all the world like the Temple was bleeding.

**

Del knelt in the cool night air.

So many years ago.

It felt like a lifetime since he had left the Temple forever, yet he could recall every facet of those events as though they were yesterday. So young and naive, he thought. Going off to save the Jedi Order. Such amazing arrogance.

Yet he could regret none of it. Despite his failure and the consequences for the galaxy, he could still not bring himself to even consider another course of action that day.

_It led me to her._

He placed his hand on the cool metal of the vaporator and waited, savoring the soft stillness of the night. As brutal as the daytime was on this planet, night was spectacularly mild. Tatooine had twin suns and three small moons. The landscape was lit with a very pale glow from the dark reflection of one of the moons and the starshine of the galactic core. Otherwise it was pure black, and quite cool. Only a very gentle breeze rustled his robes as he made his way silently, crouched, toward the homestead.

Evading the perimeter alarms had been easy. They were obviously set for the indigenous tribes of nomads and not for somebody who might take a more subtle approach. The residence itself was cut right out of the baked ground, making use of what little protection the planet's scorched crust could offer.

On the surface it looked like a typical Tatoonian moisture farm. They were littered all over this rock. Water was scarce as precious gems on this world, and the relatively low population density meant that there would be vast tracks of land available to put up vaporators and distill what little water there was in the atmosphere. Del doubted that enclaves like Anchorhead and the other cities he had spotted from orbit would have been possible without a network of these types of farms to support their needs.

But there was something much more here. This close, not even the masking presence he had felt earlier could shield it from him. Somebody in this home shone with the force. It was raw and untrained and wild. And it was powerful. The presence felt wholly innocent, unaware of the massive waves of force energy it radiated. Del had no doubt that absent the masking presence, the Emperor himself would be paying this little home a visit. This was why the force had brought him here. He was sure of it.

But he couldn't simply walk up and knock on the door and introduce himself. For one, it was the middle of the night, and he strongly suspected that unannounced midnight visitors in these parts would probably be met by heavy blaster fire, if not worse. For another, if his vision was correct, the boy's guardian knew exactly what his force powers were and what they meant.

He looked around for anything that might offer more information about who these people were. The problem is that aside from a few patrol droids he had little trouble avoiding, everything else had been brought inside prior to nightfall. In fact, aside from the small dome of the entrance and the large hole in the ground, nothing was visible except…..

Del paused. Behind him, some distance away from the main house sat a few grave markers. It made sense that these farmers buried their own on property. That could be very helpful.

Silently, he crept over to the small makeshift memorials, careful to respectfully stay off the ground immediately in front of them. It was far too dark to read the inscriptions at this time of night, but one of the handy tricks Mace had tough him was how to recognize patterns in stone by simply touching it. Mace had intended it to aid him in combat or pathfinding within a dark, closed environment, when lighting a saber could easily give one's position away to a hidden opponent. It was a simple trick…. Touch the cave wall and send a small wave of force energy through it into the stone. The feel of the force flowing into the rock would reveal its structure, sometimes for miles. It could also reveal markings made near the point of contact

Gingerly, Del placed his fingertips on the first headstone.

Hmmm. Lars. Del searched his memory but couldn't recall anybody at the academy with that surname, although that certainly didn't preclude anything. He also couldn't recall any historical Jedi with that name, but again confirmation of that would have to wait until he could research it further.

_Damn._

Another dead end. Who were these people? What was a force sensitive boy doing on this farm on this force forsaken rock in the middle of nowhere? Who or what was trying to mask this boy's presence? Why had he been brought here?

Idly, he touched each marker, every Lars name as unfamiliar as the last. The most recent death was a man by the name of Cleigg Lars, who had passed away just before the dawn of the Empire. Del moved his hand to the adjacent stone, grouped in the traditional pattern of a husband and a wife.

A jolt of pure electricity ran through him.

_Oh, force._

He touched it again, just to be sure. Then, he traced his fingers over the sand blasted inscription. There was no mistake.

His blood turned to ice.

_Shmi Skywalker Lars_. Then below that, _Beloved wife and mother._

He was losing his focus, thoughts going at a thousand clicks a minute.

It couldn't be.

Del looked back at the home, where the force presence shone, bright as ever. He was sleeping.

_He was Jedi before he became what he is and Jedi don't…. _

_The boy from the vision was about 10 which means he would have been born... _

The blood in his veins ran even colder.

Suddenly he looked to the east, toward the masking presence he had felt earlier. A cold tight ball started forming in the pit of his stomach.

_What the hell is going on here… _

He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He had no idea why he was here, but he hated the implications of what he had discovered.

Vader.

The force was pulling him toward that black hole of malevolence and hate in the force that was Vader. He had known this for a while. That was why he had made himself so obvious on San Canor, why he was out here on the outer rim broadcasting his force presence to the galaxy.

He was to confront Vader. He had felt that as strongly as he felt anything in the force since...

Since he had left the order. Left it to save it, and failed so miserably.

He didn't have any illusions about his current coarse of action working out any better, but he didn't expect to be confronted with this.

_Why the force am I here? _

He didn't know, but he knew where he would get answers.

Like a ghost, he slipped off unseen to the east, where the first wisps of daylight lashed the rock strewn horizon.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 **

The darkness was absolute.

The liquid that surrounded him was warm and soothing. He could hear nothing, he could see even less. Here, finally free of the mechanical apparatus that permitted him to live, he could allow his mind to penetrate the darkness, to examine it from within, to glory in its purity and power.

What was left of Darth Vader hung in the chamber, the bacta treatment soothing ancient wounds. The tank was one of the very few concessions to his condition that he allowed himself, and most of the time using it produced nothing but rage at Kenobi in his shattered body. It was a stark reminder of just what his physical limitations were since Mustafar.

Today, however, he was more focused on the odd force disturbance that had prompted his latest mission. His Master was distinctly unhappy with his lack of progress. Now, he used the isolation and quiet of this chamber to probe both the living force, in all its darkness, and his own memories.

There were few clues to be had. Ozzel had, quite expectedly, been unable to find a viable trail at San Canor, and the disturbance that he sought had not manifested itself again. He knew there was some piece of the puzzle he was just barely missing, an insight just at the edge of his awareness that would lend some clarity to the situation. There was no question the force presence was familiar somehow. But each time he tried to concentrate enough to pull the answers from the ether, they slipped away, brushing by him just out of reach.

It was maddening.

So he had decided to try isolating himself, and his bacta chamber provided the perfect means. The droids that accompanied the chamber would remove him and restore him to his armor and appendages, and the bacta would cleanse him. No power in this galaxy could heal him, but the tank made his long stretches in his armor tolerable. He found the entire process to be demeaning, and he used the rage that it produced to focus as he meditated.

In the darkness, he floated in the ebbs and flows of the force, like a snake in the waters of a fast current. It was dark and terrible, full of fear and suffering. At its shadowed core was his Master, the black force that had molded and shaped this galaxy, the epicenter that drew all things to himself. The rest of the galaxy moved and danced to his whim, and he diseased the connection that bound all living things to each other. All flowed according to the Emperor's plan.

Vader marveled at the malignant beauty of the dark side. This was power. Long had the Sith dreamed of domination on this scale. The light had all but been eradicated – now the true nature of the living force sung through the burning nuclear furnaces of a million suns. Fear and death had taken their proper places at the epicenter of the lives of the fools who existed at the whim of the strong. The weakness and corruption of the Republic had been swept away, along with the lies and false hope of the light.

Dark and unbidden, images floated into his consciousness. Some he recognized, others he didn't. Some were from his past, others seemed familiar, yet distant.

_Ani, this is Watto. He is our new Master. You must always do as he says._

_You're not all powerful, Anakin._

_He told me enough! He told me you killed him!_

_Do what must be done. Do not hesitate. Show no mercy._

_You have failed, your highness. I am a Jedi, like my father before me._

_They don't trust you, Anakin._

_Anakin, you're breaking my heart! You're going down a path I can't follow!_

_Don't let it be such a burden to you. Concern yourself with being a good Jedi. Prophecies tend to take care of themselves._

Although he saw nothing, in the dark his eyes shot open.

_Of course._

The answer had been there all along, waiting for him to discover it. The pieces slowly fell into place, the odd familiarity of the force presence now had a name and a face attached to it.

Windu's apprentice still lived. The man who turned his back on his Jedi heritage to chase after some fool's errand on a thousand different worlds. Even in his previous life, Vader had never understood what Del had hoped to accomplish. Now he recognized it as a fundamental flaw in Jedi thinking and philosophy.

There was no "weakening connection" to the force. The dark side was simply stronger than the light. When the dark side had finally asserted itself, there was nothing that the pathetic Jedi could do but be overwhelmed. And all the galaxy spanning quests and ancient prophecies in the world could not change that simple truth.

Now he had a name and a face. His heart thumped with dark anticipation. Serenta had been Kenobi's best friend. Dispatching him would be a unique pleasure. It was even possible the fool knew where Vader's old Master was cowering. If that were the case, Vader would make him scream the location a hundred times before granting him the mercy of death.

These dark thoughts even brushed away the humiliation he always felt as the droids reassembled him and entombed him again in his dark armor. As soon as the mask had been put in place he got Ozzel on the Comm.

"My Lord."

"Set your course for the Five Brothers."

The bewilderment was obvious in Ozzel's voice. "Corellia, Sir?"

"Yes Captain. We're going to visit the shipyards." 


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

He supposed this wasn't as bad as the Dune Sea.

The twin suns still beat down without apology or mercy, and the unprotected traveler would still have to contend with the extreme heat. Del knew, however, that it could be much worse. Here, the occasional breeze served to refresh, as it made its way through the gulleys and canyons, formed not by running water, but the inexorable action of wind on rock over countless millennia. On the Dune Sea, all the wind served was to blast the sand from its resting place and send it tearing into you, scouring you raw by the time it settled down again. The Dune Sea offered no respite. This place was somewhat more hospitable, as things went on Tatooine.

And, he supposed, that was probably why he sensed the presences ahead of him. Any part of this planet that was somewhat less harsh than another was going to attract life to it, and the caves and gulleys provided ample cover for those with predatory intentions. Carefully, he stretched out his senses.

_Ambush._

Exactly what he didn't need, but he supposed it was inevitable considering the nature of this place. He had been warned about the tribes of indigenous sentients by a dockworker back in Anchorhead – Tuskens, he had called them. From the gravity of the warning he had received he shouldn't expect the encounter to be limited to simple robbery. No, the situation would have to be dealt with, which would normally not be a problem. However, he had been very careful since the discovery of the small moisture farm to carefully limit and mask his force presence. Every time he stretched out with his feelings a dire warning sang out in the force, and instinctually he knew that making his presence known on Tatooine to Vader and the Emperor the way he had on San Canor would have dire consequences for the galaxy, though he did not know exactly why. Nevertheless, using the force in combat was out of the question.

Rounding a corner on the wind torn path, he ducked behind an outcropping of rock and took a moment to scout the area ahead. He didn't know exactly where the Tuskens had set their trap, but this place was a good bet. On either side of the path the rock rose at a precipitous angle, ending at a smooth mesa on one side and sharp peaks on the other. The mesa was perfect for snipers, and both sides held enough ridges and caves to hide a small battalion. Gently he touched the rock to his side, feeling its structure down the length of the small valley, confirming his initial assessment. He did not sense any hidden path through, and the steepness of the rock face prevented any idea of climbing it from this side to reach the mesa.

_Damn._

This was going to be tricky.

The Tuskens were not yet aware of his presence. He could cloak himself in the force, and use a combination of stealth and force distractions to hopefully reach the other side of the valley in one piece. It was a marginal use of the force, and he doubted any force sensitive outside the immediate area would be alerted, but he still didn't feel very good about it. He supposed he could try the direct approach, flat out sprint down the valley, fighting all comers, steeling himself against using the force actively. That would probably do little more than get him killed, however, as his attackers would have the advantages of numbers and co-ordination.

As he was mulling over his rather bleak options, he felt an odd shift in the Tuskens demeanor. He crouched, wondering if he had somehow inadvertently given himself away. But that notion quickly dissipated as he felt a full on panic from them, followed by a long, high pitched roar coming down the length of the valley.

_Just great._

He didn't know exactly what would cause that kind of fear in the Tuskens, but it was clear they wanted no part of whatever was making its way up the length of the valley. He felt them quickly recede. He was not sure he wanted to meet a creature fearsome enough to scare off a tribe of armed hunters, but he knew he did not have much of a choice, as the valley offered little in the way of escape routes. Silently he drew his saber.

_Well, here we…_

Suddenly, Del felt a warm familiar presence in the force. A cloaked figure appeared at the other end of the valley, making his way toward his position. Dazed, he emerged from his hiding place.

_Can't be._

As if in a trance, he walked toward the ghost that was making its way down the valley. His features were well hidden behind the robes that covered him from head to toe, but Del had no doubt about the man's identity. He had grown up with that presence in the force, it was as familiar to him as anything in his life.

_No. He's dead. They're all dead._

But there was no mistake. His best friend lived.

He reached the figure, standing silently, in awe of the moment. The man reached up and pulled the hood of his cloak back, revealing his face. If Del hadn't been shocked before, he certainly was now. It wasn't the weatherbeaten features that surprised him, any time on this planet would do that. It wasn't the flecks of gray in the beard and hair, neither of them were as young as they used to be.

No, it was the eyes, His friend's eyes had always been bright and alive, with a twinkle of mischievousness. Even during the worst of times – Qui Gon's death, the war – they had maintained their alertness. Now, however, they were flat and lifeless. No spark came to them, even as he looked at his oldest friend, who he had not seen in years and probably never expected to see again.

They were the eyes of the damned.

"Hello, Del."

"Ben."

They regarded each other for a moment until finally, Del scooped his friend into a giant bear hug.

***

Night had come again to Tatooine, and the small hut was lit on the inside with the very soft glow of a hearth fire. Del set down his tea, trying to take in everything he had just heard. Ben sat across from him, eyes transfixed on the flames.

The flames…

After a few minutes, Del finally broke the silence.

"That's … quite a story."

Ben closed his eyes and let out a long, shuddering breath. "How much did you know?"

Del waved his hand. "I knew Anakin is Vader. I knew that Palpatine is Sith. The entire galaxy stinks of their rot."

"As for the rest of it… many things that made no sense before do now."

Obi-Wan stared into the flame with those same lifeless eyes. "I should have never trained him."

"Stop it…"

"I should have gone to the council with my suspicions, but…"

"Ben…"

Obi-Wan smiled mirthlessly, still staring into the flames. "Maybe I should have run my saber through him while he slept…."

"Ben."

Del finally found his friend's eyes with his. "Stop it. We both know that eventually he would have been trained even if you had refused. The Order was too desperate for a savior."

"You never agreed with Qui-Gon. You never thought that he was The Chosen One."

Del let out a long sigh. "I don't know Ben. I don't have that kind of faith in prophecies. But I do know that putting that kind of burden on a nine year old boy is beyond irresponsible. And for that we all share the blame."

"We failed him. I failed him."

"Yes. But there's no power in the galaxy that can force a Jedi to fall. For all our mistakes, ultimately Anakin's choices are his own."

For a long time, neither of them spoke. The wind stirred gently outside, causing the flames in the hearth to dance even more.

"You shouldn't be here, Del."

"I beg to differ. The force led me here."

Obi-Wan sighed and shook his head. "And we both know you will just go anywhere the force tells you to. What do you hope to gain here? Insight into my failure?"

"I don't know Ben. But eventually I have to face him."

Now Ben's eyes stared long and hard at his friend. "Have you taken leave of your senses?"

"Ben…"

"What do you hope to accomplish? He is a machine now. He has been twisted by the dark side into a force of pure malevolence. It was only through his arrogant foolishness that I survived Mustafar. It is not a mistake he is likely to repeat."

"You have grown strong Del. But you cannot beat him."

Del looked unflinchingly at his old friend. "You know, Mace used to tell me that when we're confronted with evil, it's not required that we win. All that is required is that we fight."

"Yes, and he is dead now."

"I'm not here looking for your permission Ben."

Obi Wan sighed, shaking his head. "And what about Bella? What does she think of this madness?"

Now it was Del's turn to stare wordlessly into the dancing flame.

Obi-Wan's eyes widened. With much effort, he got up, moving to his friend and placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Del. I didn't know."

Del nodded slowly. "How could you have?"

Obi- Wan sat again, hearing the wind form a low howl outside.

"The last time I saw you, we were so rushed, and it didn't end the way I had hoped."

"Perhaps its time you told me your story, Del." 


	10. Chapter 9

**Part 2 - Remembrance**

**Chapter 9**

Of all the journeys he had made, this was by far the hardest.

Eight years ago, he had set out from the Jedi temple searching for answers. He had journeyed to the shipyards of Corellia and the spice mines of Kessel. He had farmed the algae floats of Hursta and stoked the fires of the giant durasteel plants of Quippa Major. For a time, he had even signed aboard a freighter disguised as a garbage scow, smuggling goods along the outer rim barrier worlds. He had visited the monks of Carolis, keepers since time immemorial of the written record of the galaxy. He had explored the tombs of Korriban, nearly suffocating on the dark energy that clung to everything in that foul place.

But this…. this was something different. He had not expected to visit this place when his journey began. The gentle grasslands that rose to meet him as he made his way were as foreign to him as any of the places he visited.

But he knew they shouldn't be.

This was the place of his birth. The small city of Glabra on the planet Aesculus was an unremarkable world circling a rather ordinary star halfway between the outer rim and the core. It was civilized enough, as such places go – and rich enough in precious ores and gems to be permanently settled for thousands of years. The locals were mostly working class types who had carved a comfortable enough existence out of the ruggedly beautiful landscape.

Unlike most Jedi, who considered the Temple to be their one and only home, Del always considered it to be this place. No small irony since this was his first visit here. But Coruscant, for all its wonders, was a coldly impersonal place. Matters of a galactic scale were the business of the day there. Power was the currency, and the players were too numerous and constantly changing to ever give it the necessary sense of permanence that all places identified as "home" should have.

For Del, it simply never felt like home. This place, at least in his imagination, did. As he walked the streets of his birthplace, he wondered if it would live up to what he had built it up to be in his mind. He doubted any place could.

He could not readily identify what exactly he was doing here. Years of searching had brought him no closer to the answers that he was seeking, and he doubted Glabra had any long lost mystical answers as to why the light side of the force was ebbing. But for many months now, he had felt an odd pull homeward. Since he had never set foot on this world as an adult, he knew it could not be something as mundane as homesickness. If he didn't know any better, he would say that the force had led him here.

What is more, something was happening to him. He was beginning to feel the force surge in him, as he went through his daily exercises and meditations. It was not constant, nor did he in any respect understand why. But there was no question – at times, he felt the force even more strongly than he did in his youth. A wondrous river of life and energy, the power of which was nearly overwhelming. He felt he was close to something, but he had no idea exactly what. Nor, for that matter, did he understand how such a thing was possible, as he had discovered no great mystical understanding that he could readily explain what was happening to him.

It was frustrating.

None of which was going to make the conversation that was about to happen any easier.

What do you say to a mother and a father you have never met? A sister who has no memory of you? What would their reaction be to his suddenly showing up on their doorstep after all these years? And what would their reaction be when they found out that their sacrifice was for naught? He was not a Jedi, and never would be.

Per Jedi rules, he had been permitted no contact with them for his entire childhood. Until he had set foot on Aesculus he had no idea if they even still lived. He had considered sending them a message, but what exactly would he say? He had told himself he would spend the time on the shuttle ride to Glabra coming up with something, but words eluded him still. And now, there was no time left. Turning up the narrow path to the modest house, he wondered yet again what the force had in store for him here.

Toward the edge of the property, he spotted a rather large man trimming the lawn along the edge that separated it from the rolling grasslands. He was using a rather noisy mechanical device and took no heed of Del's approach.

"Excuse me, Sir?"

The man made no movement toward Del at all.

"Um, excuse me, Sir!" Del repeated, somewhat louder.

This time the man set down the mechanical device and turned around. Del felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

It was like looking 30 years into the future. The man was large and had a weathered face, but his eyes were soft and intelligent. He regarded Del with a somewhat tired patience.

"Yes. Can I help you?"

Del found himself unable to speak for a moment. Silently, he chided himself, even in the midst of his shock. What exactly did he think he was going to find here?

"Are you okay son?" The man's patience was quickly waning. Del got the feeling that he did not suffer fools easily.

"Um… yes of course, please forgive me…. Are you Anto Serenta?"

The man let out a deep exasperated sigh. "Honestly son, if you are here to pick my brain about what party I'm going to be balloting in the generals next week, you're wasting your time."

"Er… no Sir, that's not why I'm here."

"Then what is it? If you hadn't noticed, I am somewhat busy this afternoon. You would be doing me a kindness if you stated your business."

"I'm sorry Sir, it's just…."

Anto raised his eyebrows.

"Look, I thought about how to say this for weeks now, and I still have no idea. So I'm just going to come right out and say it."

"My name is Del Serenta."

For a moment, the man stood there, uncomprehending. Then his eyes went wide with shock.

"Del…. our Del?"

Tentatively he took a step forward.

"Son…..?"

"Sir I know this must be a shock and believe me I'm not here to cause any upset to your life, if you want me to leave all you have to do is say the wor…."

Del's last words were cut off as he found himself scooped up in a giant bearhug. Anto had strength that belied his age as he picked Del up off the ground, laughing. Laughing himself, he embraced his father, relief pouring out of every fiber in his body.

His father set him down and regarded him through misty eyes. "For a long time, I wondered if we would ever see you again. I have no idea why you are here, but know this: you are home now, and you are always welcome."

"Thank you Sir. The manner of my being here is a story of considerable length, I'm afraid."

"Two things – first, we will have all the time in the world to discuss this over dinner. Secondly, if you call your mother 'ma'am', she is going to burst out crying right there. So don't do it."

"Okay, erm…. Dad."

Anto had a look of pure joy on his face. "Much better" he said, voice cracking.

"Come on. Time to meet your mother."

Del knew this would not be an everyday experience, but he was unprepared for the flood of emotions that came over him as he made his way with his father to the house. It was like something out of a dream. A family that claimed him as their own, even after all this time. For the Jedi to deny their members this…

Tentatively, he stepped in the house in front of his father. The modest dwelling was single level. The first thing Del noticed was the aroma. Something was cooking and it smelled incredible. It was warm and earthy and brought a flood of almost primordial images to his mind, of family and security and love. What is more, he felt it in the force.

"Byrna? Honey, we have a visitor."

From the other room came an exasperated sigh. "Anto Serenta you need to start remembering to tell me in advance when you have one of your friends over so I can…"

As soon as Del caught sight of the small but formidable woman that entered the kitchen something went off in his head like a thermal grenade. Had he not met her here, in the place of his birth, but simply ran into her on the street of some distant world, he still had no doubt he would have known that this was his mother. His breath caught in his throat and he took a tentative step forward.

Byrna, for her part, merely stared at him in wide eyed shock.

"Del…?"

And then suddenly she was in his arms, sobbing hysterically and clutching her arms around his neck like she was afraid that he might slip away at any moment. He felt his father embrace the two of them from behind, closing big meathook arms around them. Del stood there, holding his mother, crying. He had imagined a thousand different homecomings, but he never thought it would affect him like this.

After several minutes, the reunited family loosened its grip on each other, all three wiping away tears. Del looked down at his mother.

"How did you know it was me?"

She laughed while wiping away tears.

"Do you think for one minute that a mother would not recognize her son?"

She took both of his hands in hers.

"Welcome home, Del."

Del looked around, at this place he had so long called his home. At his father, standing there with his hand on his shoulder and a look of pride on his face. At his mother, looking at him with such adoration. He didn't know how they would react when he told them everything, but somehow, he knew it would be okay.

"Thanks mom. It's great to be home."

***

Several weeks later, Del had accompanied his family to the wedding of a family friend. One of his father's oldest friend's son was getting married. As Del had learned from talking with his mother, weddings on Aesculus generally lasted a couple of days, with the ceremony on the final day followed by a huge feast bringing together both the bride and the groom's family and friends, who up until that time had celebrated separately.

_What a crazy couple of weeks._

In addition to meeting his parents and sister for the first time, he had been shocked to find out that he was an uncle. His sister's children were intelligent and inquisitive, and after a few minutes of awkward silence were full of questions about the places he had visited. A.J. in particular seemed curious about the Temple and how it compared to his school. With his sister's grudging permission, he had showed him the inner workings of his lightsaber, and explained to him the importance of a properly shaped crystal in producing a fine blade.

Now he was sitting at the wedding table, smiling as he watched his niece dancing with her grandfather. He was amazed at how quickly both his parents and his sister's family had accepted his presence in their lives. He had explained everything to them, expecting them to at least be somewhat disappointed that he had not become a Jedi. Instead, he found understanding and acceptance. More than anything, what he sensed from his family was overwhelming joy that he was a part of their lives again. In turn, he experienced that joy himself, as he gradually came to know them.

_We deny ourselves this, in the name of the force._

He understood the logic. The love of a family inevitably led to attachment, and attachment was strictly forbidden. With attachment came fear of loss, and that was an inevitable path toward the dark side. So strong was this belief that Jedi were trained to let go of any attachment in their lives, even the bond between Master and Padawan. In so doing, the Jedi Order became less a brotherhood than a loose collection of force adepts who pledged their loyalty not to each other, but to the ideals for which the republic stood.

He had always had his doubts about such an approach, ever since he came of an age when one naturally questions the beliefs one was raised with. It would be wrong to say that he was not idealistic – he certainly believed in freedom, democracy, and human rights, which were the cornerstones of the Republic. It was just that he was not sure severing the most meaningful of human contact was the best way to serve those ideals.

Now, among the family he had been forbidden contact with for so long, those doubts only grew stronger. In the short time he had been here, he had plainly witnessed the strength they derived from each other, strength they willingly shared with him, even though he was little more than a stranger to them. There were many paths to the dark side, and there were many paths to the light. Increasingly, he wondered if the Jedi's desire to protect its members from falling to the darkness didn't also close off paths of enormous strength.

These thoughts were broken by a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Del. Come have a drink with me."

"Sure, Dad."

Father and son made their way through the thick crowd of dancing revelers to the bar. As he had noted several times over the past few weeks, people gave him plenty of space. There were even some sidelong looks and whispered conversations after he passed. It was becoming an all too familiar reaction.

The robot bartender offered a list of spirits and ales. Anto, however, was having none of it.

"Do you happen to have any Imperial whiskey back there?"

"I'm sorry Sir, but that particular spirit is restricted. May I have your name?"

Del noted with amusement his father's scowl. "I am Anto Serenta, oldest friend and confidant of groom's father, you worthless bucket!"

"Just a moment Sir… accessing … you have been approved." Two small tumblers of viscous blue liquid emerged from the bartender's torso. Del took one.

Anto held up the glass and looked at Del, his eyes shining. "To my son, lost, and found after all these years."

Del held up his glass. "And to my father, and his family. May the force be with you."

Anto smiled and downed the drink on one gulp. Del followed suit. It took every ounce of his Jedi calming techniques to not break out in a fit of coughing and wheezing. He placed his hand on the bar, steadying himself.

Anto noted with amusement his son's reaction. "Come now Del. Don't tell me this was the first time you've had a drink?"

After a few seconds, Del finally trusted himself to speak. "Okay, Dad. I won't tell you that."

"What? If I had known that the Jedi were going to raise my son as a teetotaler, I never would have agreed to give you up."

"I think the Jedi would sooner use whatever that was as rocket fuel."

This earned him a smile and chuckle from his father.

"Dad, can I ask you something?"

"Of course"

"Are these people afraid of me?"

Now his father looked distinctly uncomfortable. "What are you talking about?"

"Come on, Dad. Outside of the family, nobody has said more than two words to me since I have been here. Everywhere I go I get greeted with long stares and whispers behind my back. Everybody is polite enough, but …"

Anto let out a long sigh. "You have to understand Del, it's a small town. Everybody knows who you are."

"Who am I?"

"You are the boy who became a Jedi. Yes, I know you technically aren't part of the Order. But few here know that, and to tell the truth the technicality wouldn't mean much to them if they did."

"And they have reason to fear the Jedi?"

"Fear is the wrong word. Mistrust maybe. Much has changed in the past few years Del. Most people here are simple farmers and factory workers. Most here aren't very happy with what has been going on in Coruscant these days."

"What do you mean?"

"The Trade Federation, despite their infamy at Naboo, continues to be supported by Republic policy. Their taxation of trade routes has put a severe restriction on our ability to ship goods. Few here can see any compelling reason for the tax, and yet it continues. Many believe that the Trade Federation and other special interests run the government now."

"There's also been a gradual decline in even the most basic of governmental functions. Did you know the local hospitals now routinely run short on bacta and other crucial supplies? If you get hurt or sick, it's hit or miss if you are going to be treated properly."

Del nodded slowly. "That is disturbing, but I'm not sure what any of that has to do with the Jedi."

"The Jedi and the Republic are inseparable, Del. If the Republic is seen as corrupt, and the Jedi support and protect the Republic, aren't the Jedi guilty of the same corruption?"

"Del, you are the only Jedi most of these people have ever seen. In my father's day, the Jedi would routinely visit Aesculus. They would meet with local leaders; they would walk the streets and talk with people. We certainly aren't the central hub of the Republic, but they made the time to come here and if nothing else, that gave the people the sense that somebody was watching over them. Now….."

Del nodded. It was true the numbers of Jedi had fallen precipitously in recent years. Now he was witnessing first hand the effects of such: the gradual erosion of faith and confidence in the Order.

"Look, Del, don't be so concerned about how people react to you. It's a small town. In time, they will get used to you…"

Somewhere in the back of his mind Del heard his father, but he might as well have been on some other planet. His mind was buzzing, his face was numb. He felt like he had been hit by a sledgehammer.

_Force abandon me._

She was stunning. Del caught sight of her on the dance floor, twirling slowly to the beat of a local droid band. She was one of the bridesmaids, wearing a light pink dress that clung to her like a lovers embrace. Her dark hair cascaded down around her shoulders like a waterfall, bouncing ever so slowly as she moved. And her eyes…

Her eyes were the warm hazel of the setting sun, the kind that shone at everyone she looked at. They were the kind of eyes that peered into the deepest part of you, while revealing the deepest part of her at the same time. They made her at once strong and vulnerable, and spoke of the warm spring rains and the fierce summer tempest. She was a stormy calm of contrasts.

He had been to a hundred different worlds, and she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. One side of the galaxy to the other, and nothing else even came close.

In the years to come, he would never have an accurate recollection of exactly how long he simply stood there and watched as she danced. It was as if time had stood still. Finally, she seemed to notice his attention, as her cheeks turned a crimson red and she turned away from his gaze quickly.

_Don't get shy,_ he thought.

"Are you listening to a word I say?"

Shaking his head slightly, Del turned his attention back to his father.

"What? Oh, I'm sorry dad. What were you saying?"

His father's eyes held a twinkle in them. "Never mind. Beautiful, isn't she?"

"Wha… what? Who are you talking about?"

"Oh please Del. You were staring at her like a starving man stares at a banquet table."

Now it was Del's turn to get embarrassed. "Was I that obvious?"

"Oh yeah. So when are you going to go over there and talk to her?"

"Well that's the thing dad. I'm not."

"What?"

"Dad. I'm not sure how much you know about Jedi teachings, but let me assure you that how to romantically interact with members of the opposite sex is not in the curriculum."

Anto looked at him incredulously. "And do you think there's some magical course the rest of us take on how to talk to women? Hell I've been married to your mother for 30 years and I still don't have a clue. The only way to do it, son, is to do it."

Del shook his head. It all seemed so unreal. "I don't know, dad."

Anto considered for a moment. Then he reached into his pocket. "I want to show you something. See this holo? I've carried it around with me every day since you were born. It is the only thing I had to remember you by after we gave you up. It shows your mother giving you your very first bath."

"Dad, that's touch…."

"Now, see that droid over there?" Anto pointed to the photography droid, who was projecting holos from the wedding ceremony on a very large screen above the wedding party's table. "If you don't go talk to that girl, I'm going to take this holo over to that droid, and in a very loud voice tell this entire party how proud I am that my son has returned."

Del's felt his face go white. "You wouldn't"

"You don't think so?"

Del took a deep breath, turning back to the bartender droid. "Allright. But I'm going to need another drink before I do." The droid produced two more Imperial whiskeys and Del slugged his back. This time it went down warm and smooth, and settled to a low burn in the pit of his stomach.

_Here we go._

With a boldness he didn't really feel, Del strode over to the edge of the dance floor where the girl was talking and laughing with the other bridesmaids. He stopped directly behind her and took a deep breath.

"Um…. Excuse me."

Slowly, she turned around facing him. Once more, he had to steady himself as he looked into those beautiful eyes, feeling his heart hammering in his chest. Giggling, the other bridesmaids excused themselves, running off in a fit of whispers and laughter.

"Is there something I can do for you?"

Somehow, he found his voice. "Listen, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt…."

"Yes you did."

"Well…."

"You walked right over here as I was talking to my friends, and you started talking to me. That's more or less the textbook definition of interrupting, don't you think?"

'Well…. yeah."

"And is there some reason that you came over here and interrupted?"

_This certainly could not be going any worse._

"My name is Del."

"Yes, I know."

"I'm afraid you have me at a bit of a disadvantage….."

"Indeed I do."

"Okay. I was wondering if you might want to take a walk, or something. I mean, you know, just so we could talk."

"I'm a part of the bridal party. It would be quite rude of me to simply up and leave, when I have duties to perform here, don't you think?"

Del sighed, feeling all his resolve disappear. He tore his gaze from her eyes, staring into the lights behind her.

"Bad at this. It figures that I would be bad at this." He said.

He stared her in the eyes again. "Yes of course you are right. It was thoughtless of me to ask. I'm very sorry to have interrupted you, miss."

Shoulders slumping, he turned to go.

"Wha…. Wait."

Del turned around.

"That's it?"

Del looked at her, confused. "I'm sorry?"

"Well…." she sighed and crossed her arms, looking exasperated. Del thought it was the loveliest thing he had ever seen.

Finally she sighed and shook her head. When she looked back at Del, her eyes contained a twinkle. "Would you like to dance, Del?"

"Wha…. Oh, wow. Umm… I don't really dance."

"Don't be silly. It's easy." With that, she strode forward and took his hand in hers, leading him out onto the dance floor.

"Wha… wait…." The protest died on his lips as she felt her hand on his, the connection electric.

She reached the dance floor and turned to face Del. Taking his right hand she moved it around her waist, pressing her tiny body up against him as she did. She then twined her fingers with his left hand, placing it against his chest.

It was all Del could do to breathe. The feel of her so close, the scent of her hair, everything… it was all entirely new to him, and all amazing. Somehow, he managed to shuffle his feet in a slow circle, his eyes never leaving hers. As beautiful as she was from across the room, she was exponentially more lovely from this close. He felt force energy pulsing between them at every point where her body met his. It was like nothing in his experience.

Finally whatever song that was playing ended, and she took a step back. Del's eyes bore into hers. Again, he saw her cheeks flush red, saw her cast her eyes downward. Del did not trust his voice to speak.

Finally, without meeting his gaze, she stepped in and moved her arms around his neck for a quick hug. As his arms encircled her, he heard her whisper in his ear.

"My name is Bella." 


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"I don't understand."

"I knew you wouldn't."

"This is insane. I love you."

"And I love you. Look this isn't easy for me….."

"Tell me why."

Slowly, she let out a shuddering breath. "I'm not sure you would understand. Please, just accept what I am saying. It will be for the best for both of us."

"No. I'm sorry." There was anger in his tone now. "That's not good enough. I have been a good a man to you. You might not want to offer an explanation, but I think I deserve one."

Another deep shuddering sigh. "Yes, you do."

"You are a Jedi."

"No, I'm not…"

"Yes, you are Del, in all but name. I admit its part of what drew me to you. You have an amazing and wondrous power."

"I watch you sometimes, when you are meditating." Her voice was barely a whisper now. "I can feel it flowing all around you. And I know more than anything, you listen to the force."

"How long before you listen to it tell you to leave this place?"

"The force brought me to you. I have no doubt of that. It's not going to tell me to leave you. And if it did, I wouldn't listen."

"And what of your mission?"

He took a step back. He struggled to find the words.

"Something is coming, Bella. I feel it grow more every day. It's like a disease… darkness is infecting the galaxy. I'm so close to something…"

"I can't walk away now."

"I know. But my place is here, Del. This is where my family is. This is where my students are. You know how important they are to me."

"Don't do this…."

"Sooner or later, Del, the force is going to take you from me. I…. I don't think I would be able to bear it."

"So you are going to push me away instead? Is that going to somehow make it easier to bear?"

"Del please…. I…"

Gently, he took both of her hands in his, twining his fingers with hers, like he had done so many times before. "Angel, the only reason in this entire galaxy to be with somebody is finding some part of you – a part that you didn't even know existed – in another person. Once you find that, can you ever be complete again without it?"

"I love you. I was meant to find you. I waited my entire life to find you, without knowing it. I have no idea if I'm going to be able to stop what is coming. But I know I can't do what I must without you."

"Tell me you don't believe the same, and I will never bother you again."

For a long time, she stood there, saying nothing. When she did speak, it was through sobs. "I'm sorry Del… I just can't….."

And suddenly her arms were around his neck, squeezing him tight.

"Wherever you go, whatever you do, you carry my heart with you."

And then she was gone.

Del stood alone, surrounded by the emptiness.


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The giant scrapyard had only grown over the past hundred years. Located on the fringes of Glabra, it contained old spaceships, land speeders, obsolete and deactivated droids, even entire building frames. The durasteel scrap from the core worlds stretched from horizon to horizon, composing an area far larger than the city or the factory for which it was destined.

This was the raw material used in durasteel production. Almost no new durasteel was produced anymore... nearly all was reclaimed from ancient hulks like these. It was melted in furnaces and purified, strengthened, and finally molded into whatever shape a particular customer wished. It was far cheaper to recycle in this way than it was to mine the raw materials necessary to create durasteel from scratch, and the galaxy never seemed to run out of junk.

It also was the perfect place to train. There were Glabrans who lived their entire lives without visiting the scraplands once. The entire process was automated, from the delivery ships that dropped the scrap off to the shuttle that automatically selected proper sizes and concentrations of scrap for what was being produced that day. Except for a few remote security droids, the place was completely deserted.

Del had taken on work as a cargo pilot, operating from Aesculus' small moon, delivering ore mined from its depths to the durasteel factories. Even though the raw material used in production was entirely recycled, the fuel used to heat the furnaces that melted it still needed to be supplied. Fortunately, the moon was almost entirely made up of this ore, which is why durasteel production had taken hold on Aesculus. He made twice daily runs in the ancient ships, one of the few jobs that had not yet been automated, thanks to the moon's always changing gravitational field. During these runs, he couldn't help but notice the scraplands on his approach to Glabra, and thought it would make an excellent place to hone his saber skills away from the prying eyes of the general population.

And now he sprinted through the massive valleys created by the ancient piles, feeling the force flow through him. Without thinking he leaped, propelling himself toward the sheer wall of one pile, coiling and rebounding off of it, flying through the air to the top of another. He landed hard and ran along the summit, the spine of some ancient freighter. Breathing hard, he closed his eyes, trusting the force. At the end of the small spine, he leaped again, flying effortlessly toward another summit, rebounding off of that, tucking into a ball and rolling as he hit the ground below.

Igniting his saber he continued to move, swinging it left and right, severing ancient trusses and the base of two adjoining piles. He felt rather than heard the scrap move, leaping straight up at the last possible instant to avoid the falling durasteel, rebounding off of a moving beam in the air, doing a backflip and landing unscathed on the other side, as the two massive piles fell into each other.

The force was with him. He felt it in his fingertips. He felt it in his soul. It poured through him like something ancient and starved, hungering for contact with the physical world, He wielded it at his will, and allowed it to direct him to its will. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, even as he covered acres in mere seconds, reshaped this small corner of the scraplands with his will and his blade.

He tucked his weapon into his belt as he leapt again, not sure even as he was doing it what he was jumping towards. At the peak of his jump, he reached out with the force and pulled a large slab of steel from a nearby pile and sent it hurtling toward his path. He bounded off of it and flew into the air again, vaguely aware of it clattering on the ground behind him as he sailed toward the peak of yet another pile. Igniting his saber just before he landed, he drove it deep into the metal at the peak, feeling the pile start to move beneath him. Trusting the force, he adjusted the blade slightly, allowing the pile to crumble at just the right angle, surfing the small slab he was on to the bottom.

He knelt there, breathing hard, every nerve alive, reaching, feeling the world around him pulse and flow.

The force was with him.

_Calm. Peace._

He centered his thoughts, trying not to dwell on the nearly overwhelming feeling of emptiness inside him. But it was difficult. He had come here to forget about her, to let the force wash him and purify him. And he felt it, stronger now than ever. The reshaped scraplands bore witness to its potency. Yet it was not anger that drove him, it was not bitterness and fear that controlled him. He was very conscious of the darkness that flickered on the edges of this path he had chosen. Falling into it was a temptation, but only as a way to give meaning to his despair, and he knew the deception that lay along that path. The power that he felt was the power of the light, perhaps not as pure as the Jedi would have it, but strength nonetheless.

He was very close to something, and as always he felt the frustration at not being able to put the puzzle together. Yet the answers he sought were not entirely hidden, as the strength he felt had a familiar signature. Yet he did not understand how it could be, that the unique force presences that he had come to know and love in this place would be with him still. He felt his family's strength and love flowing through him, even though none were force sensitive. And what is more…

_Her._

He tried to deny it, tried to move past it but there was no question. She was with him still. She moved in his veins, pounded in his heart, and filled his vision, even now. Her warmth, her sweet understanding and everything about her that was not of the physical world resonated in him. She was in the very air that filled his lungs, burning him, marking him as her own, even now. What is more, the connection gave him strength. It amplified and resonated with the force. It soothed him and energized him, allowed him peace and fury, all at the same time. How this was possible he did not know…

Maybe there were some marks on the soul that not even the force could wash away…

Or maybe they were marks that the force recognized as its own..

He opened his eyes, looking around. He sucked in a breath, feeling instead of the soothing burn an icy frost.

_Cold._

_Fear._

Something was wrong. He fought for calm as the ice gripped his heart. Before he even knew it he began running, a cold dread forming in the pit of his stomach. He had no idea what he was running toward, until he saw the shuttle lifting off and departing with a load of scrap toward Glabra. As soon as he saw it he knew he had to be on it. Leaping into the air, he landed on the wing of one, just as it cut out its repulsorlifts and surged forward on the power of its ion engines. He flattened himself against the body of the massive transport as it slowly built up speed. As he grew closer to town, the feeling of cold dread grew stronger, until he saw a column of thick black smoke rising from what appeared to be an area close to the plant entrance. As the shuttle slowed, he got a birds eye view of the destruction in that area, trying to put together in his head what had happened. There was a massive crater at least 50 feet in diameter right at the plant entrance. Inside the crater was pure molten slag, still steaming and bubbling from the explosion that created it. Outside the crater things seemed undamaged. Several emergency crews were on the scene.

Del leaped down from the shuttle, landing and quickly running over, searching for a law enforcement officer. Instead, he spotted a familiar face.

"Dad!"

Anto spun at his son's call, stepping away from the edge of the crater.

"Del! What are you doing here? Although I guess I'm not too surprised."

"Something felt wrong. Feels wrong still. What happened here?"

"I don't know. This is the service entrance. Supposedly we were getting a shipment of parts in today from Quippa Major for the caster. I talked to my inventory chief this morning; he said the shipment would arrive around 1 PM. So I made my way down here. You know how I like to make sure we have the proper equipment."

Del nodded, growing impatient. The cold dread in his gut was not going away.

"Anyway, these three cargo gliders pull up to the gate, but something goes wrong. The scanners must have picked up whatever they were using for explosives. Thank God it was able to get the containment field down in time. Trapped all the energy inside. Made one hell of a deep crater, but nobody got hurt."

"Dad, this is very important. Did you see a transport driving off after the explosion? Something that maybe didn't look like it quite belonged down here?"

Anto looked puzzled. "How did you know that?"

"SOP during an attack like this. The cargo ships would have been automated, but they would have feet on the ground to make sure things went according to plan. And they would have a backup plan in case things didn't."

"Which way did it go Dad? And what did it look like?"

"It was a skiff type transport. But they went south along Industry Drive here son. They can't escape that way. That just takes them into town…."

"They don't plan to escape. There are a lot of targets down that way. They could be heading for Municipal Center or the power grid or…"

He felt his blood run cold.

'... the school."

Del cursed his foolishness, suddenly understanding the cold dread he had been feeling in the force. Like a shot, he took off down the street, so fast that Anto barely had time to register where his son was going, before giving chase himself.

***

Del rounded the corner, seeing a massive crowd of students gathered outside the school. Teachers were herding their students together, counting heads, making sure everybody was accounted for. Some of the students were crying, others trying to comfort those who were upset.

Del didn't even bother to look for Bella. He knew she wasn't there. She was close, he felt, angry and very scared, but alive.

He nearly sprinted headlong into the front entrance, but thought the better of it. He stopped in front of what looked like a sergeant in the Domestic Militia, a handful of whom had gathered and were trying to organize the students.

"What is the situation?"

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step back."

Del ignored that. "Do you have any idea how many are inside?"

"Sir, all we have is a report of a disturbance in the building. We are trying to determine if all the students and staff are accounted for…"

"They aren't."

"How do you know that?"

"I know."

"Well, if that is the case, our negotiation team will be here shortly and I'm certain the situation can be resolved with…"

"It can't."

The sergeant looked startled. "Excuse me?"

"I need to get inside."

"Are you crazy? My orders are to clear this area. I'm not going to let you anywhere near that building."

Del stepped forward, bringing all his attention to the young officer.

"What is your name, sergeant?"

For the first time he looked a bit unsure of himself. "Officer Brinkman."

"My name is Del. Do you know me?"

He hesitated for a second. Finally, he sighed "I know who you are."

"Okay. Good. Here's the deal."

"The people that tried to blow up the durasteel plant a few minutes ago are the same ones that are in that school now. They have a number of students and at least one teacher hostage."

"H-how do you know…"

"I know."

"Listen to me. They aren't here to barter. They aren't here to negotiate. Their entire plan rests on only one thing: The local authorities will not be able to mount an effective response in the time it takes them to murder their hostages."

"They hate the Republic. They think they are strengthening the separatist movement. They are here to die, and take as many innocents as they can with them."

"I can stop them."

"Let me through."

Brinkman was ash faced, and for a moment Del considered that he would have to disable him. But he moved aside and nodded, and Del was inside the deserted school grounds an instant later.

Kneeling next to a corner of the building, he closed his eyes and reached out with the force. It was not difficult to ascertain a tactical overview of the situation, as emotions were running high. He felt the fear from around a dozen student hostages, as well as their confusion. Their captors were also fearful, but their fear was mixed with something darker. None had any illusions about what they were preparing to do. If any harbored doubts, their misgivings were currently buried under a flurry of activity.

He forced himself to concentrate. Bella was a shining beacon in the force to him, and if he allowed it, she would drown out everything else going on around her. The intensity of her emotions made the situation fluid, he wasn't sure if what he was sensing was distorted by his connection with her. She was badly frightened, for herself to be sure, but moreso for her students. She had always been fiercely protective of them, taking pride in their accomplishments and demanding just as much from them as she would if they had no learning disabilities. Their success was her success, and now he could feel her frustration at having them threatened in any way.

Her fear set his senses on edge. It was amplified by his fear for her.

Whatever he was going to do, he needed to do it quickly. The force sang that in him, down to his very bones.

Fleetingly, he wondered if this was a dangerous path.

_Fear leads to suffering. Suffering leads to…_

He decided he didn't care.

Crossing the courtyard was out of the question. The hostages were concentrated in a room on the far side. Stealth was what he needed. Looking up, he noted the roof would enable him to cross the courtyard area by way of the building surrounding it. Force leaping upwards, he landed softly and began making his way quickly toward the auditorium area. As he got closer, he began to sense the hostages were in two separate rooms. He also sensed a gradual spike in the anxiety level of the separatists. Whatever was going to happen would happen soon.

He soon reached a ventilation duct near the area he was looking for. Silently, he removed the cover, and used the force to short out the magnetic fields used to circulate the air. Sliding into the ventilation shaft, he crept his way quickly but silently to a grate overlooking a classroom.

The students were huddled in a circular pattern below him, crying and grasping each other for comfort. He could see no separatists, but reaching out with the force he sensed them wiring explosives together, almost directly below him.

_Now,_ the force sang, and he immediately pulled his light saber, igniting it and slicing through the thin metal of the air duct. Crashing through, he fell directly toward two very large men who looked up far too late to do them any good. Tucking his saber away, he angled his body, landing blows with his fist and his foot on each man's skull. Neither had an opportunity to cry out before hitting the floor in a heap.

Kneeling, he examined the men's handiwork. There were three similar sized explosive blocks placed throughout the room, probably containing photon charges. Three boxes of that size would take out a good portion of this city block.

Concentrating, he placed his hand on one of the boxes, sending small force waves along the wires connecting the boxes. He had never done this before, never trained it – in fact he had never heard of it being attempted. It didn't matter. He knew he could do it, and what is more, he knew it was the only way it could be done without triggering anti-tampering nanites that would detonate the package and send them all sky high. Moving his hand softly over the box, he closed his eyes, picturing the mechanism in his eye, seeing the firing charge, moving it slowly in each box, so that it faced 90 degrees from its intended alignment. He then triggered it, noting with satisfaction as each group of explosives was rendered inert by its firing mechanism expending itself into the casing instead of the explosive.

Blinking, he looked up, noting that the students we're looking at him with a mixture of horror and curiosity. Standing, he smiled and moved toward them.

"Don't be afraid. I'm here to help."

One girl, who looked to be about twelve, stood up and cautiously moved her way toward him, She wiped tears from her eyes, looking at her classmates. Finally, she looked at the men piled near the explosive casing.

"D – Did you kill them?"

"No. They just got a solid knock to the head. They will wake up in a few hours."

"Are any of you hurt?"

"No. But they took Ms. Gallos!"

"Do you know where?"

The girl looked worried, crossing her arms in front of her and hugging herself. "No. Not far, I don't think. She fought them, when she saw what they were doing. The bad man got angry. Hit her and dragged her away."

Anger, raw and unbound, welled up in Del's stomach. He didn't try to fight it.

"Are they going to kill her, Mister?"

He looked at the young girl, who was staring at him with huge eyes. "No. No they aren't. I promise."

"What is your name?"

The girl sniffed and cast her eyes downward. "Angela." Her voice was barely a whisper.

He placed a strong hand on Angela's shoulder. "You are very brave, Angela. I promise this will all be over soon. There is something I need you to do for me."

The girl looked unsure of herself. "Me?"

"Yes, Angela, you. I need you to lead your friends across the quad to the other side. Run as fast as you can, but make sure nobody gets left behind. There are militia officers on the other side that will take care of you. Can you do that?"

She looked at him curiously. "Are you going to save Ms. Gallos?"

A small smile tugged at his lips. "Yes, Angela, that is exactly what I am going to do."

She nodded, determined. "Then I will do as you ask."

"Thank you."

Angela turned to her classmates and motioned for them to get up. "C'mon!"

Del led them over to the door, opening it and stretching out with the force. He sensed nothing between them and the other side.

He turned to his new friend. "Ok, Angela. Count to ten and then go. Don't look back, don't stop. No matter what."

"Ok." She turned to her classmates and nodded.

"I'll see you in a few minutes."

Del moved quickly to the other side of the room. Angela was counting silently to herself, and Del was about to jump back up to the overhead vent when something caught his eye. He stooped low and picked it up.

_Damn._

It was Bella's necklace. A simple rope chain threaded through a small bracket holding a faceted crystal. Del had recognized it as the same sort of crystal used in lightsaber construction, although far smaller. It was a family heirloom, and in the time he had known her he had never seen her without it.

He gripped the crystal in his hand and slid it into his pocket.

He was not sure what it was about the crystal, but it had a soothing affect on him. Concentrating, feeling the force flow, he leaped into the hole he had just made in the ventilation shaft. He quickly began moving along the maze of ducts, feeling her in the force and letting it guide him. Finally coming to the main auditorium, he found a grate stationed just above an elevated catwalk above the main stage.

_There._

She was unhurt, it seemed. The seperatists had her seated on the floor of the stage, next to what appeared to be a portable control panel. _Probably what they were going to use to detonate the packages the other two were setting up_, he thought. They had used binders to fasten her wrists behind her. One was reading data off of the panel, while a second patrolled the catwalk, opposite of where he was. The third was talking to Bella, or rather she was talking to him. Cursing at him, actually. He smiled to himself, feeling a rush of pride.

Again the force sang to him, Now. He immediately removed the grate and slipped silently down to the catwalk. None of the three gave an indication that they noticed him, and a moment later the one manning the computer terminal gave a cry of alarm.

"Depa, look!"

The one that had been talking to Bella glanced over at the control panel, as did she. He felt her hope surge.

"How did they get out?" Depa was obviously agitated, and Del guessed that they had hacked into the school's security system, finding a view of the children arriving at the far side of the quad.

"Blow the charges…. NOW!"

Immediately he leaped over the edge of the catwalk, landing directly in front of the two. He drew himself up to his full height as the blasters of the computer operator and the guard on the catwalk were immediately trained on him. Depa grabbed Bella and pulled her, grunting, in front of him, training his blaster on her head.

These were secondary concerns to Del, however, as he brought his full attention on his Bella, She was terrified, but defiant, and he felt her love for him surge in the force. He looked at her with steady eyes, trying to send her reassurance, let her know everything was going to be fine. He felt an unnatural calm. Even in these circumstances, her presence was soothing.

"Don't you move a muscle!"

Del ignored Depa and kept his attention on his woman. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" His voice was soft and sure, strong and soothing.

"No." Her voice was strong but fearful, and he felt her concern for him, as well as her fighting the urge to hope that they might get out of this. She was also unsure what she should reveal about how much she knew him. He wished he could tell her none of that mattered now.

"It's going to be okay. This will be over soon." He tried to put as much reassurance as he could in those words.

"HEY! I'm talking to you, hero!" Depa was getting antsy.

Finally tearing his eyes from hers, Del reached back and pulled his hood down, stepping forward and bringing the full weight of his attention on Depa.

"This is over. Put your weapons down. Let her go. Get on the floor."

For a moment, Del thought that it might work. But the keyed up emotions of the situation prevented the mind trick from fully taking hold, and Depa and his lieutenant exchanged a nervous laugh.

"How about this. You step away from that control panel or very bad things start happening to her."

"That's not going to happen now. This is over."

"I don't know who you think you are, but…."

"Listen to me. This is very important, because the choice you make in the next few seconds will determine if you and your two friends live or die."

"I know you think you are in control here. You aren't. I know you think you have the ability to do significant harm to her, me, and this general area of the planet. You don't. All that ended when my feet hit the ground in front of you."

Del let a small smile creep to his lips.

"In the next few seconds, one of two things is going to happen. Either the three of you are going to lie down your weapons and surrender to the authorities, or you will die."

"Believe me when I tell you, you can no longer harm her, and you cannot harm me. That is not a boast. It is not a prediction, nor is it a promise."

"It is simply a fact."

Depa was breathing heavily now, shifting, somewhat unsure of himself.

"You – you turn around and walk out of here right now and I'll consider letting her g….

"This is not a negotiation. You no longer hold any cards of significant value. This is over. The only choice you have is between a chance for life, and a pointless death."

It became obvious to Del that his attempt to end this without bloodshed was not going to be successful. Depa shifted nervously, taking a step back, dragging Bella with him, gun still pointed at her head. Like most sentients, he was unable to grasp the situation beyond what his sight told him. In this case, it told him he and his men were still firmly in control.

That misperception would likely be his last.

Fully stretched out with the force, a sudden ripple told him he was about to run out of time an instant before the lieutenant, blaster still trained on Del, looked at the monitor of the control panel.

"Depa, they're rushing!" Del knew the monitor was showing him images of the Militia pouring through the front door of the school, heading in their direction.

Depa's eyes went wide and his grip on Bella tightened. "Kill hi….."

He hadn't finished the command before he was flying across the room, in the opposite direction as his former hostage. Del had closed his eyes, experiencing the odd but welcome sensation, as he always did in combat, of time slowing down. He had reached out with the force, pulling on Bella and pushing Depo hard. The two flew apart, Bella landing and rolling in an open area of the stage, while Depo crashed hard into a stack of boxes at the far end.

In the same moment, Del's saber was flying into his right hand, coming up and igniting and instant before two blasts from the lieutenant reached him, deflecting both perfectly upwards. The soldier on the catwalk had no idea where the blasts that killed him came from. He died without firing a shot.

Del used the momentum from this move to spin himself, feeling his weapon hum in his hands as he bore down on his target. He closed the distance between himself and the lieutenant in a heartbeat. The separatist, to his credit, was no stranger to combat, and after the initial shock of not having Del slumped in a heap had quickly passed, he trained his blaster back toward his moving target. He was almost able to get off a second volley before Del's saber cut him neatly in half.

Del felt the force cry out a warning, and he leaped high into the air, deactivating his saber and flicking his wrist at Depa, who had managed to quickly get himself in a kneeling position in front of the boxes. The blaster fire passed harmlessly beneath him, and before Depa could get a track on him, he noticed the cylindrical object Del had apparently thrown tumbling toward him. He didn't know what it was, but knew it wasn't good. Dropping and rolling to the side, he came up with his blaster at the ready, searching for his target. What he found instead was the object had tracked him through his roll. He recognized it an instant before Del force activated it. His last thought before the saber blazed to life, piercing his heart, was that Dooku's intelligence had failed him badly when they informed him their were no Jedi anywhere close to Aesculus.

Falling back to the stage, Del called his saber back to him, watching Depa's body slump to the floor. Taking life was not something he relished. He did it when necessary, and he would sleep well tonight knowing that in this case it was, but he never enjoyed it.

Brushing those thoughts aside he turned to the reason he came. She was half laying, half sitting on the stage floor where he had thrown her, struggling in her bindings to get a better look at what had happened. He smiled as he felt her relief and love, picking her small body up gently from the floor and setting her back on her feet.

"Are you hurt?"

She shook her head and looked past him. "Are they…."

"Yes. They didn't leave me a choice."

Stepping closer to him her eyes widened slightly. "The children….."

Del put both hands on her shoulders, reassuring her. "They're fine. That Angela has some strength in her - she led the others to safety. She's the reason I was able to get back here to you."

A small smile of pride came to her lips. "I will have to thank her then." Again she looked past him, to where the bodies of her captors lay.

Del looked at her. "Are you sure you are okay?"

"Yes it's just…"

Del waited, examining her lovely face, which was now a mask of conflicting emotions.

When she spoke, her voice was a whisper. "I've never seen you fight before."

Del nodded, looking back over his shoulder at what he had done.

"Yeah."

When he turned back, her face was a mixture of pride and relief and love. When her eyes met his, it was merely with awe that she regarded him.

"You saved me."

"Well…"

"You walked right in here. Not caring one bit about your own safety, and saved every single one of us."

"Now wait a minute. Don't go pinning that knight in shining armor stuff on me. It makes it very hard to be uncouth. And you know how I pride myself on that." He gave her a lopsided grin.

She chuckled before letting out a shaky breath. "Could you… erm…" smiling, she waved her still bound fingers at him.

"Oh yes, of course. How un-chivalrous of me. I suppose they felt the need to cuff you for their own safety." He grinned as he drew her into an embrace, removing his saber and igniting it, carefully reaching down behind her and slicing through her bindings.

"Damn right." Her face was buried in his chest. For some reason that felt as right as anything had in his life.

She slid one free arm through his as they headed toward the stage exit.

Grinning, he couldn't resist adding "I'm just surprised they didn't gag you."

That earned him an indignant giggle and an elbow to the ribs.

Together they walked back to the light, to the warming embrace of their loved ones.


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

The knock on her door was not unexpected.

"Come in."

"Hi. I just wanted to check in on you."

She smiled gratefully. "I'm fine. A little shook up, still."

"Sometimes these things take a while to fully comprehend."

"That's not the only reason you came."

"No. I came to say goodbye."

"Goodbye? You're …. You're leaving?"

"Yes. Back to Coruscant, tomorrow."

"The Temple?"

"Yes. I'm going to try and figure out the rest of this riddle there." For some reason, she would not look him in the eyes.

"I… I didn't realize you would be leaving so soon after…"

"I'm sorry. I had planned this for a few days, what happened today... "

"I'm glad it happened today and not tomorrow."

She turned from him. "Is this where the force is guiding you?"

When he didn't answer, she pressed. "Is it Del?"

"No. Nothing about this feels right in the force. But then, you know that."

"Del, please… I can't…"

"No, and I'm not asking you to. I just came to say goodbye."

Long moments of silence passed between them. Finally, Del remembered something. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the necklace he had found in her classroom. "I have something here for you."

Turning back around, she saw the necklace, her hand immediately going to her neck. "Where did you find that?"

"In your classroom. You must have lost it in the struggle. In all the excitement, I forgot to give it back to you at the school."

Reaching out, he held the prized heirloom out to her. For her part, she stared long and hard at it, swallowing several times. When she reached out, it was with a trembling hand.

"I didn't realize… I didn't know I had lost it." Her voice was barely a whisper. Del looked at her, puzzled.

"Bella?"

Her trembling fingers took the necklace, stepping forward as she did and wrapping her arms around Del's chest. They did not reach the entire way.

Surprised to find her in his arms, Del instinctually wrapped her up. He was stunned. He felt her in the force, in turmoil. Gradually he became aware of sobs wrecking her body.

Lowering her gently to the couch. She had been through a lot in the last 24 hours, and it was probably just catching up to her now. Gently, he rocked her, holding her tight in strong arms, whispering reassurances into her hair.

"Shhh… it's okay… I've got you now."

"I've got you."

Looking up, she wiped the tears away from her face, keeping her body pressed against his. She looked him directly in the eye.

"Yes, you do."

And suddenly her lips were on his, kissing him deeply. He felt himself respond as he always had, drawing her closer, wrapping her, feeling her soft form pressed into his…until the rational part of his mind screamed out a warning.

Breaking the kiss, he struggled for breath, looking her in the eye.

"Angel, this is wrong."

"Does it feel wrong?"

"You've just been through a trauma and…"

"Del."

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

And then she was in his arms again, kissing him hungrily. All the reasons why this was a mistake simply dissolved in her kiss. Rolling her over, his lips left a long trail of soft kisses down her neck. The room, the rest of the world simply melted away, until the only reality he had left was her. The only reality he ever needed.

Afterwards, she lay snuggled in his chest, fingers lazily curling around his chest hair.

"Marry me."

He had no idea he was about to speak those words, but they came nonetheless. Everything about them felt right.

He felt her inhale sharply, letting out a shudder.

"Baby…."

"Don't tell me all the good logical reasons why it won't work. That's just excuse making and you know it. Maybe I'm not the most experienced guy at this sort of thing, but one thing I know for certain:"

"You belong with me."

"Del, I'm dying."

She had managed to get the sentence out through sobs. Tears fell on his chest, rolling down, burning like fire.

"Wha… what?"

She told him everything. The diagnosis of Stenhorn's Disease, rare but always deadly. The options for treatment, slim as they were. The reason for her pushing him away, wishing to save him the pain of watching her die.

"How long?"

"Months, maybe years. It's early in the disease's progression, but it can accelerate rapidly."

A dozen thoughts came to him all at the same time.

_This can't be._

_Why is this happening?_

_How can I save her?_

And then:

_Does this change anything?_

He knew that it did not.

"You never answered my question."

Now he was looking into two very large, very wet eyes.

Her voice was barely a whisper when she finally spoke. "Del, are you sure?"

He took her face in his hands, cradling her gently, wiping her tears away with his thumb.

"Whatever happens, I want us to face it together. You will never, ever be alone. I will take you for as long as the force gives you to me."

Leaning up, she closed her eyes and brought her lips to his, kissing him softly, breaking it to only whisper, in words, in the force, and in his soul:

"Yes."


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"I think your parents were very happy."

Del chuckled. "Are you kidding me? They've been wanting somebody to make an honest man out of me ever since I got here."

There was a twinkle in Bella's eye when she responded. "An honest man? Is that what I'm doing?"

Del grinned and pulled her close. "If they only knew…."

She gave him a little laugh and pulled back playfully. "Just my luck to run into a scoundrel Jedi."

"Mmmmmhmmm. And a lecherous one, at that." He leaned down and kissed her softly, feeling her return it warmly and passionately.

Brushing the hair back from her face, he noticed the way the light caught and reflected off of the crystal around her neck.

"You know, you never told me why things changed so suddenly for you when I gave you back that necklace."

Pulling back gently from him, she reached up and played with the crystal, looking very thoughtful. "Things didn't change so much as they were… confirmed."

"I don't understand."

"You knew my grandmother gave this to me when I was just a little girl."

"Yes."

"Well, she found this crystal when she was very young. She was on holiday at Carolis, diving in the salt caves. She found this there. She said it called to her."

Del nodded. "She was probably slightly force sensitive. That is the type of crystal that can be used to construct a lightsaber."

"I think she was. She was always doing little things, like having a fresh batch of cookies come out of the oven just as I arrived for a visit, even if it was unannounced. Of course when you are a kid, you don't notice that sort of thing."

"Anyway, when she gave me this necklace, she told me to take good care of it, and to always make sure I had it with me."

Del waited, listening. Bella was speaking very softly now. "She also told me that if I ever lost it, the man who would return it to me would be the man I would marry."

Del stepped forward, taking her hand, letting her continue. "I never forgot what she said but, as I got older I guess it just got further and further from my mind. I mean, you don't exactly live your life waiting for somebody to return a necklace to you so you can get married, you know?"

"And then, there you were, in my living room, holding the necklace out to me, getting ready to walk out of my life forever."

Her voice was barely a whisper now. "The thing is, I always knew it was you. From the first time I saw you at that wedding, I knew. And I almost let fear drive you away. Keep us from having whatever happiness we can."

"The Jedi believe that attachment leads to fear of loss. Greed. Darkness. It's the reason Jedi don't marry."

"Do you know what my darkest moment was? It wasn't during the separatist attack. It was in the doctor's office, when they told me this disease was no longer dormant. It would have been so easy to just give up, push you out of my life and wait for the end."

"But I couldn't. Eventually, I realized that was nothing but the path of least resistance. It was the coward's path. And when I saw you holding that necklace out to me, I knew that I didn't want you to have fallen in love with a coward. It would be a dishonor to us both."

She let out a shaky breath. "So I guess my attachment to you is the only thing that saved me, Del. Saved me from the less courageous aspects of myself."

Del studied her for a long moment, fingers gently stroking her cheek. "You know, I'm finding more and more the wisdom of the Jedi is not absolute."

Now Del's voice was barely a whisper. "I think we all have the darkness inside of us, angel. Malice, cruelty, cowardice, hopelessness. It's in each of us, I think. There are trillions of sentients in the galaxy, almost none of them are Jedi. Yet they manage to hold the darkness at bay."

"In my travels, I've met no shortage of beings that were capable of the most unspeakable of cruelty. Yet on all those worlds I visited, most sentients led decent, productive lives."

There was a long pause. Del looked at her, staring up at him, eyes shining. All those years of searching, looking for answers on a hundred worlds. Now, those answers looked back up at him.

"I think I know why the Jedi are dying."

Just then, Del's communicator went off on his computer. Walking over to it, he sat at the terminal and hit a few buttons. A familiar figure materialized in front of him in blue.

"Ben!"

A smile came to his old friend's face. "Hello Del. It's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you too. How have you been?"

"I'm well, thank you." There seemed to be a bit of an odd strain in his voice. "I'm glad I finally managed to track you down."

"What can I do for you?"

"Well, this might sound a bit unusual, but when I found out you were on Aesculus, I thought I would contact you."

Even if had not been his best friend looking back at him, Del would have been able to tell the hologram in front of him was distinctly uneasy.

"Of course. What's wrong, Ben?"

His old friend sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair. "It's Anakin. I assume you heard about what happened on Geonosis?"

Del felt a pang of guilt. The Jedi had lost many of their number in that battle, and he had not been there. "The entire galaxy knows Ben."

"Not entirely. We encountered Dooku there."

Del nodded thoughtfully. "He's awfully young to have confronted a Sith…."

"Yes. He has some scars. Physical and… otherwise. I thought it would be a good idea for him to get away from the Temple for a while."

"You are always welcome here, you know that."

"Thank you, Del. I have some other matters I would like to discuss – it has been far too long."

"I agree. We look forward to having you."

Even through the hologram, he could sense his friend's curiosity. "We?"

Del smiled and held out his arm, drawing Bella close to his side.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, I'd like you to meet Bella Gallos." He grinned and looked down at her. "Amazingly enough, Bella has agreed to be my wife."

The look of shock on Ben's face only served to widen Del's smile. He bowed slightly when he had recovered himself. "A pleasure to meet you, m'Lady."

Bella smiled back. "Thank you, Master Kenobi. It will be an honor to have you in our home. I look forward to any stories you might have about Del when he was just a boy."

"Uh-oh." Del intoned.

"Why, m'Lady … I have more stories than you have patience to hear, I'll wager. Did Del ever tell you about our mission to Stannus Prime?"

Bella looked at Del with twinkling eyes. Del, for his part, could only sigh as his cheeks blushed deep red. "The hedonists' paradise? Why no, Master Kenobi, he never mentioned it."

"I'm not surprised. It's not often a Jedi, even a Padawan, has to go looking for his partner in the middle of the night at a brothel."

"It wasn't like that!" Del protested, bringing a laugh from both Ben and Bella.

"Also Del, I'm going to have to have a discussion with you about using your powers for personal gain. Unless you expect me to believe you convinced such a lovely, charming creature to marry you without use of the mind trick."

Again, Bella beamed. Del groaned.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"As well you should." Ben's smile was ear to ear as he gave a slight bow. "Thank you both for your hospitality. Anakin and I look forward to our visit. And my deepest congratulations to you both."

"Thank you, Master Kenobi."

"See you when you get here, Ben."

The hologram faded to nothingness. Bella looked up at him, chuckling slightly.

"Stannus?"

"A long story. Ben would kill me if I ruined it for him by telling it first."

Bella laughed and made her way over to the computer, checking on her lessons for the following day.

"He seems very nice. Although obviously having a penchant to walk around in drab bathrobes is a Jedi trademark."

"What's wrong with my robe?"

This earned him an eyeroll. "And what's with this Jedi mind trick stuff? Does that really work?

Del grinned mischievously. "The Force can be very powerful."

"Powerful enough to get another to do your bidding? Come now."

Del raised his eyebrow and stepped forward. With a twinkle in his eye, he waved his hand dramatically. "Take off your blouse."

"What?"

Del repeated the gesture. "Take off your blouse."

Bella put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Del Serenta, if you think for one minute that cheap parlor trick is going to work on m….."

He waved his hand in the air again, causing the top two buttons on her blouse to pop off and go flying across the room.

His reward was a surprised squeal. Bella's eyes widened and she looked at him in shock, clutching her blouse together.

"Del!"

Finally Del could hold his straight face no longer, breaking down into a fit of hearty laughter. Bella, for her part, came at him in mock outrage, pounding her fists off his chest as he enveloped her in his arms.

"You are so BAD! What am I ever going to do with you?"

His voice was soft and husky, full of love, when he replied "Oh, I'm sure you'll think of something."

Two eyes shined back at him.


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

"When I returned to our ship, I discovered that Del had left me a holo stating he had gotten a tip one of the slavers we were pursuing was attempting to make a sale that evening. Naturally, he thought nothing of going off by himself to confront him."

Across the booth in the small restaurant, Del wore a look of long-suffering. Next to him was Bella, eyes wide and hanging on Obi-Wan's every word. Across from them sat the Jedi Master, recounting his tale with a thoroughly self satisfied look on his face. Next to him, listening and sipping his tea, was Anakin.

"I rushed to the scene, half expecting to charge into a fight in some abandoned wherehouse. Instead, I find my partner chatting up a local …. businesswoman …. in a house of ill repute!"

"Our contact set up the meeting! She was the only one that could lead us to that slaver scum. He was attempting to sell her brother and sister!" Del protested.

"So he has always maintained." Ben gave Bella a sly wink, eliciting a small giggle. "I think he was simply looking for somebody better looking to spend the night with than his old friend Obi-Wan."

"I could have done that at the local gundark burrow."

Del's comment caused an uproarious round of laughter from the small group. Even Anakin managed a slightly upturned smile.

Bella looked at Ben, then back at Del. "So, did you catch him? Did you rescue the children?"

"Yes, angel. Never even had to draw our lightsabers. They surrendered on sight. "

A sarcastic grin greeted that comment. "They were probably frightened of your robes. I know I am."

More laughter came at that.

Del turned to Anakin, who so far had been mostly silent and somewhat withdrawn. "I still can't get over how much you've grown. Last time I saw you … you probably don't even remember."

A look of patient weariness came over Anakin's face. "I remember. As I recall, you do a dead on Yoda impression."

Del chuckled, altering his voice. "Mockery. Imitation. The dark side are they."

The three Jedi broke up at that. Bella, for her part, looked shocked and gave Del a hard elbow to the ribs.

"Ow!"

"That sweet little old troll from the news holos? How dare you make fun of him! He can't even walk without a little cane…."

This brought more laughter from the Jedi. Even Anakin was holding his sides now.

"Angel…" Del began, wiping away tears. "That sweet little old troll from the news holos? He could beat the force out of the three of us without breaking a sweat."

Bella's eyes widened at that, looking at Anakin an Ben for confirmation.. Ben nodded, raising an eyebrow thoughtfully. "Every Jedi will tell you the same. He is the most adept force user in the Order. Yoda can fight."

"As we know all too well." A shadow passed over Anakin's face. He rather awkwardly moved his mechanical hand up to his forehead, grimacing, as if the movement itself was a reminder.

Del exchanged a glance with Obi-Wan. Something in his old friend's demeanor told him it would be best to not ask questions about what happened on Geonosis. Privately, however, Del was concerned. Anakin had grown strong, but beneath the surface Del could sense near-constant turmoil. Unlike any generation of Padawans in a thousand years, today's young Jedi Knights would come of age during a period of war. The Sith had re-emerged, and even the most conservative of Jedi could no longer deny the cloak of darkness that had descended on the galaxy.

No, Del thought. It's not just that. There's something more … something that could destroy him.

Bella looked across the table and smiled at Anakin. "Well. I'm sure you two do just fine defending yourselves, and I'm sure you have to opportunity with all those young core world girls chasing you around."

Anakin's cheeks flushed red and Obi-Wan gave an embarrassed smile. Both of them mumbled some aw-shucks nonsense under their breath, clearly flattered. Del gave her shoulders a little squeeze. She always knew just what to say.

"Well, I'm sure you two are tired from your journey. Since I know it's useless to try and convince you to have a drink with me, perhaps we should be heading home."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "Spirits too? Interesting. I'm not sure Master Windu would approve."

"I'm quite certain he wouldn't." Del grinned. "But then, he doesn't need to know about his former student's scandalous ways, does he?"

Anakin chuckled. "I suppose not."

"Besides, how do you think I popped the question to my better half here?" Del said, grinning mischievously at Bella. "I was dead drunk."

The laughter that ensued was well worth the shot to the ribs this earned him.

***

Troubled dreams.

Del turned in his sleep, disquieted. Darkness floated at the edge of his perception, just beyond his reach. Images that he didn't understand floated into his consciousness. Racing through the canyons of a barren, desert planet. A woman's face, weathered and aged, but kind and loving. Obi-Wan, in the training rooms at the temple, holding his saber in a defensive position. And more than any of the others, a young, beautiful woman, eyes shining with laughter and love. Underneath it all, however, a cold whirlpool of darkness churned, growing menacingly, threatening to swallow everything.

With a start, he woke, breathing hard. Instinctually, he reached out, feeling for Bella in the darkness. Looping an arm around her waist, he drew her slightly back to him, breathing in her scent, making sure, insanely, that she was real. Bella, for her part, stirred slightly in her sleep, snuggling back warmly in his embrace, reassuring. Both her hands moved to cover his.

After a moment he rose, making sure Bella was snug beneath the blankets and pulling on his night robe. It was still a few hours before dawn, in the absolute still of the night. A cool breeze meandered through the apartment. Aesculus was coming to the end of its warm season, and the night air was growing increasingly crisp.

Del walked to the kitchen and poured himself a small tumbler of Dantoonian wine, His bad dreams were becoming more and more frequent, although tonight's definitely had a different feel. He wasn't really surprised when he saw Anakin's shadow outlining the deck entrance. Quietly, he walked over and stood beside him. Outside, the river that gave Glabra its name flowed silently. Del had chosen this place specifically for its location. The river was peaceful, but teamed with life and the force. It was ideal for meditation.

Anakin's eyes were shut and for a time, both stood silently, observing the night cloaked beauty of the scene that neither could see, but both were keenly aware of. Del sipped his wine slowly and allowed Anakin to bring the coming conversation to him in his own time.

After some time, Anakin sighed deeply and opened his eyes.

"Do you regret it?"

"Do I regret what, Anakin?"

"Leaving the Jedi Order."

Del nodded slowly, not in affirmation, but considering his answer. "At the time, I was young and arrogant. I was determined to save the Order from a threat I believed only I fully perceived."

"The more time passes, the more it appears that you are correct. The Sith have returned."

"Perhaps. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened had I stayed.. Maybe I would have found the answers quicker."

"Have you? Found the answer, that is?"

Del was silent for a long time. "Your master would not want me filling your head with my thoughts on the shortcomings of the Order. I can tell you this – when I set out on this journey I had grand noble visions of saving the Order. I no longer am arrogant enough to believe I have that ability."

"So the Order is doomed then?"

"No. I'm saying its up to the Jedi to save themselves. Nobody can do it for them. Certainly not me."

Del paused, considering his next words carefully.

"And not you either, Anakin."

A long silence passed between them as Anakin considered this. Finally, he let out a long sigh and asked, somewhat tentatively "You don't believe in the prophecy of the chosen one?"

"I'm not so good with prophecies. I know this: many Jedi, consciously or not, look to it…. to you…. to save them instead of taking the hard steps necessary to do it themselves."

Del felt the turmoil boiling in the young Jedi – the doubt was barely being held at bay, the fear of not living up to the expectations of those around him. This was perfectly normal in a Padawan, but in Anakin the feelings were compounded by something else. A sense of isolation that had only been heightened recently by …..

_Very interesting_, Del thought.

Anakin sighed and continued. "Ever since I arrived at the Temple, I've heard about this prophecy and my part in it. But nobody will tell me what exactly I'm supposed to do! Destroy the Sith. Fine. How do I do that? What must I do to meet my destiny?"

Del gave a little half-smile and stepped closer. "Anakin – they don't know. Not your Master, not my old Master… not even Yoda."

Anakin sighed, exasperated. "So what do I do?"

"Don't let it be such a burden to you. Concern yourself with being a good Jedi. Prophecies tend to take care of themselves."

Anakin let out a low, shuddering breath. With a slight smile and a grateful nod, he turned back toward the guest room.

"What is her name?"

Del noted with amusement the look on Anakin's face as he froze.

"Wh…. Who?"

"The girl from your dreams."

"I don't know what you mean…."

"Come now Anakin. You were force broadcasting her in your mind loud enough to wake me up."

A panicked look came over his face. "You can't tell Obi-Wan. If he were to find out…."

Del waved his hand. "Anakin, I'm not going to tell Obi-Wan anything, although I suspect he knows far more than you think."

"I doubt that. Please, give me your word. Not a word to him about her."

"You have it, Anakin."

Del waited as Anakin ran the steel fingers of his artificial hand through his tangled hair.

"Padme."

"She is beautiful."

Here the young Jedi almost smiled. "Yes, she is."

"It's funny, how things happen sometimes. Without planning it or without even considering the possibility that it could."

Tight lipped, Anakin nodded slowly.

"Anakin, what happened to you, between you and..."

Del felt clumsy, like he was searching for words for something that was etheral. Something that he and Anakin shared, but that was just beyond his ability to communicate.

"Ask me again if I regret leaving the Order."

Anakin looked him directly in the eye. "Do you?"

"No. Not for a minute. Not when I think of the Temple and my childhood, not when I think of Obi-Wan and Mace and the Jedi I consider family. Not even when I came to the realization that I was going to likely fail at the mission I had left them all to undertake."

"That decision led me here. And here is where I found my destiny. It's not the destiny I spent my life training and preparing for, but it is the destiny I chose. And there is no part of me that regrets that, no matter what I had to sacrifice to attain it."

"This is where the force wants me. This life has offered me more rewards, and more challenge, than any I could have experienced as a Jedi."

"So no, Anakin. I will have no regrets. No matter how my destiny turns out."

Anakin looked at him quizzically, but to his credit, did not push the point. Glancing outside, he sighed deeply, allowing the tension to pass from his body.

"Thank you, Del. You have given me much to consider."

Del smiled, placing a hand on the young man's shoulder. "You have grown strong and wise, Anakin. Whatever happens, the force will be with you. Always."

With a grateful nod, Anakin moved off, closing the door to his bedroom. Del waited for a moment, watching the first rays of the morning sun rising over a distant hill. He finished his wine and stared at the delicate tendrils of blood red light , nearly completely overwhelmed by the darkness at this hour.

The coldness of the morning seemed more pronounced than ever.


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Half a second before the blade would have sliced through his torso, the force sung a warning in Del. Ducking quickly, he saw Anakin's brilliant blue blade slice cleanly through the space his head had occupied only a instant prior..

Bringing his own blade up, he made an upwards sweep that the young Jedi blocked by maneuvering around to Del's front, forcing him back and in line with Obi Wan. This was where Del wanted him, keeping his two attackers at the same angle, making it possible to defend against both at once.

Alternating their moves, the two came at him, Anakin feinting and leading to his right, Obi Wan pausing and attacking low from the left. Del swung his saber in a wide arc that deflected both blows, and settled in to a slow retreat, holding the two Jedi at bay with strong defensive cuts.

Breathing hard, he relaxed into the force, felt it surge in his blood. The cool damp autumn air hung like a thick blanket over the scrapyards, and Del was thankful for the slight breeze that kept him from overheating. This was turning into quite a workout.

Bella had initially balked at the idea of a training session with the three of them swinging deadly lightsabers at each other for most of the afternoon, but Del had been eager. Keeping up his saber skills had been vitally important to him, and he had been diligent about regular training. But re-shaping the scraplands could only take you so far, and it had been years since he had faced a Jedi. Now he was facing two of the very best.

Obi Wan had stated he and Anakin needed some practice fighting together. Del didn't press the issue, but he suspected this was an after effect from their encounter with Dooku at Geonosis, where Anakin had lost his arm and, from what little he could gather, both would have lost their lives had Yoda not intervened.

From Del's current perspective, however, the two worked extremely well together. Their styles were highly complimentary, with Anakin and his natural aggressiveness pressing the attack while Obi Wan cautiously hung back ever so slightly, evaluating the situation strategically and dictating the pace.

Right now, for instance, Del sensed that the two were trying to maneuver him into a clearing. Thus far, he had been able to fight while continuously keeping his back to a scrap pile, limiting Anakin and Obi Wan's angle of attack. Now, however, they were pressing him, aggressively forcing the pace to their advantage. One of the great truths of saber fighting is that when outnumbered, it is difficult to think strategically – one must be concerned with the simple act of defending multiple blows at any given time. Little concentration can be spared for tactics in any normal sense. However, that's not to say one cannot take advantage of situations as they arise…

Del felt the two Jedi press the attack. They saw the advantage the clearing would give them and were eager for it.

_C'mon… a little more…that's it…_

In full retreat mode, Del backed toward the clearing, encouraging his pursuers. Swinging his saber to the side, he left a slight opening that Anakin immediately sought to take advantage of. Pressing forward, the young Jedi brought his saber over his head and swung savagely down, while Obi Wan lunged to cover his flank, swinging his saber toward Del's weak hand.

Instantly, Del stopped his retreat and took a step forward, bringing his blade up and bracing, meeting the swift attacks with aggression of his own. He met their blows firmly. For a brief instant, two blue sabers crackled against green, until a slight move from Del pushed each blade off his own. Taken by surprise, the two Jedi stumbled backwards, off balance for only a moment - just enough for Del to bring his saber down hard into the turf, pushing with the force. The shock wave from his saber exploding through the ground combined with the force push caught Obi Wan and Anakin off guard, sending them flying in opposite directions, landing hard against opposite piles of scrap.

Off to the side, he heard a soft giggle. Bella had been following the duel, moving as they moved, but always from a safe distance. Del de-activated his saber and gave her a wink.

"Had enough?" he called to Obi Wan, who was picking himself up off the ground and dusting himself off.

His friend said nothing, merely gave Anakin a slight glance, and reached out his hand. Del braced himself for the force push, but instead watched as the pile of junk that had been protecting his back exploded backwards, scattering all over. In its disheveled wake, Anakin landed behind him, placing Del in the middle of two very focused Jedi.

_Oh hell…_

Del barely had time to re-ignite his saber and the battle was rejoined, fast and fierce. Strategy and tactics were completely forgotten as he concentrated merely on surviving the fierce onslaught of blows raining down. Relaxing even further, he let the force blast through him like a torrent, so fast he could not keep track of his movements. He stopped thinking altogether, merely reacted, his mind pondering no action beyond the next one.

Slowly, however, a vague sense of disquiet began to overtake him as he moved. The force flowed and raged in him, and his sense of his surroundings was acute. He sensed Anakin and Obi Wan, and felt how the force flowed in them, breathing and moving, like something alive. He felt how they responded to it, how they responded to him.

_Something's wrong._

The sense of disquiet and, especially in Anakin, grim determination was somewhat out of place for a friendly training session. Moreover, neither of them moved like they lacked practice fighting together. Indeed, each anticipated the other's move with near flawless precision, and reacted accordingly. Each few steps, each new swing of the saber, racheted up both their skill and their tension level.

Del sensed this fight was nearing its conclusion, tenuous as it was, at the edge of his perception. On either side, his old friend and his Padawan moved closer. Anakin swung his blade low and, when Del went to block, Obi Wan slashed high from the other side. The force was with him, however, and he managed to duck in the barest nick of time. Vaguely, he wondered if Obi Wan would have been able to stave the killing blow had he not dodged it.

Spinning around, he attempted to slash back and force Obi-Wan to the side, setting up a backflip and finally getting both of them in front of him. His blade bounced hard off of Obi Wan's, and he used the momentum to carry himself around, preparing to leap. Before he could, however, he sensed and saw the cold blue light from Anakin's blade at his throat.

Breathing heavily, sighing deeply, Del deactivated his saber. The sense of disquiet from his friends did not dissipate.

He did not know what was going on here, but it was time to find out.

Drawing himself up to his full height, he tucked his saber into his belt, and took a step toward Anakin, who looked like he just might run Del through. The movement brought the blade right next to his jugular, and he felt a wave of alarmed concern sweep over Bella.

Del looked the young man square in the eye. To his credit, Anakin didn't back down an inch.

"If you're going to use that thing, I suggest you do so Anakin. Otherwise, stand down. This fight is over."

Del kept his gaze steady on Anakin, who looked for all the world like the walking manifestation of barely muted rage.

"Master?"

A long pause.

"Do as he says, Anakin."

After a similarly long pause, Anakin de-activated his lightsaber. Both he and Obi Wan kept theirs at the ready, however.

If this wasn't happening right in front of him Del would have barely thought it possible. His oldest friend was regarding him with something close to barely concealed contempt.

"I think we have some things to discuss, Del."

"You're damn right we do! Let's start with why this little training session has suddenly turned so dark."

"First I'd like to know if there is anything you would like to tell me. Anything about where your Master is currently located."

Confusion swept over Del. Had Mace gone missing?

"As far as I know, he's still at the Jedi Temple. I understand he is part of the Council now. Why?"

"Enough of this!" Anakin spat. "Where's Dooku?"

For a moment, Del simply stared blankly at him.. Then the full impact of what they were accusing him of hit him full on, like a thunderbolt. He was stunned silent for a few moments, reaching out for Bella, who had wandered close. She looked as if she were ready to take his saber and plunge it into each of their skulls. Right then, he couldn't have said if he would have stopped her.

"You… you think I'm Sith?"

For a moment, no words passed between them. Obi Wan averted his gaze, but finally managed to look him in the eye.

"Del, you have not had formal training in well over 10 years. You have not been in the Jedi community in that time either. Anybody facing the same situation, regardless of their natural ability in the force, would see their skills diminish. Yet here you are, and you are stronger than I can ever recall."

"Anakin and I should have been able to best you in a matter of moments. Yet it took us hours, and every bit of combined skill we possess."

"It's obvious you have continued your training. And we know it hasn't been with a Jedi."

Del stared at his oldest friend, shock quickly turning to fierce anger. With effort, he quelled the emotion, at least enough to find his voice. "Is that what this little 'training session' was about? To see if my skills have eroded to the point where I could be ruled out as an agent of evil?"

"It's even worse than that." Bella murmured at his side.

Del looked at her in confusion, unsure of what she was getting at. Del glanced first at Anakin, who still regarded him with venom, and then at Obi Wan, who wore a resigned expression on his face.

A fresh wave of shock overtook him. "That's what this entire visit is about, isn't it Ben? You don't care about getting Anakin away from the Temple or finding out what I might have discovered in my travels. You're here..."

Del took a moment, letting the anger roll over him, and off him. It took several moments, but finally he was able to find some calm. Bella's soothing presence reached out to him, and he drew strength from her.

"You're here on a mission from the Council."

Obi Wan ran his fingers through his hair, looking much older than his years. "Yes. We know Dooku is Sith. There are always two. The Council has made finding the other their highest priority."

"It appears we have succeeded." Anakin's gaze never left Del, his hand never leaving the hilt of his saber.

Del regarded the younger Jedi sadly. "There were things I tried to tell you last night, but it appears you have not listened." He then turned and looked Obi Wan directly in the eye.

"I am no Sith. Do you really think I could have turned my back on everything I have believed in?"

"Del, I'm not in a position where I can merely take your word. There is too much at stake."

"Well then short of resuming this fight, it appears we have only one option."

Obi Wan seemed to arrive at the same conclusion. "The Sharing?"

Del nodded, looking down at Bella, who regarded him, confused. "All Jedi have defenses in the force... walls if you will... that keep other Jedi from being able to read them completely." He glanced at Anakin.

"Although I can't imagine a scenario where a Jedi could be in the presence of a Sith and not know immediately, I'm going to let down my defenses and allow Ben to read my force signature. It seems as if it's the only way."

Bella looked at him, concerned, then regarded the two Jedi. "If that's what it takes."

"Master, don't. It could be a trick." Anakin's tone and stance had not changed a bit.

"No Anakin I did not take this mission with any enthusiasm, and despite what we have seen here today, I have my doubts. Del is my oldest friend. I owe it to him."

The young Jedi did not look happy, but held his tongue.

With sad regret, Del regarded his friend. "Ready?"

With a slight nod, Obi Wan shut his eyes.

Del did also, diving inwards, finding a way to silence the anger and the hurt he was feeling, searching for Bella in the force, finding her in turmoil, but drawing from her strength. He felt her soothing presence, and made it his own.

He opened himself to the oneness of the force, the communion of all living creatures. He searched for his friend, finding him near, troubled. Slowly, with effort, Del began to remove the barriers that had so naturally been in place all his life. He felt the surge in the force this brought, shining bright, hot and fierce. He also felt the dark undercurrent to the galaxy, growing stronger even in these brief few minutes. It too flowed through him, dark and powerful and terrible. He did not seek to control it, merely let it wash over him, sweeping away the barriers that identified him as an individual.

_This must be what death feels like_, he thought. _Total communion with the force - a loss of all individuality..._

Gradually he became aware of another presence... searching...

Gasping, he fell to a knee, breathing hard. Bella was with him in a heartbeat, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, steadying him. He slowly re-established his perimeters, taking several minutes to fully recover.

Glancing over, he saw Obi Wan doing the same, his apprentice looking down on him with concern.

"Master?"

Obi Wan brought a trembling hand up to his eyes, pinching his upper nose. Del recognized it as a habit his old friend used when he was concentrating, or trying to regain his composure.

Obi Wan shook his head, a slow, sad gesture. "He is not Sith."

Anakin shot him a disbelieving glance. "But Master..."

"He's not Sith Anakin. The darkness has no claim on his soul."

Getting his breathing under control, Del slowly rose on unsteady legs. "How could you have ever thought that it would?"

"Del, please try to understand. Dooku is a fallen Jedi. It is the opinion of the council that his apprentice could also..."

Del cut him off with a wave of his hand. He laughed bitterly. "Ben... my old friend. The Jedi have truly become blind."

"Look around you Ben. Can't you feel it? Don't you feel the darkness? It grows, every day. It is evil that does not sleep. It feeds on fear and death, destroying everything it touches."

"And it is getting stronger."

'Do you really think Dooku is responsible for all that? That he commands even a fraction of the power it would take to make that reality?"

"No Ben. Dooku is the replacement for the Zabrak you killed on Naboo. Your true enemy has yet to reveal himself. The Sith Lord remains hidden."

Ben shook his head, staring at his lightsaber, still clutched tightly in his hands. "The Council does not agree."

"They're wrong. They're blind. And you know it."

The four of them stood in the cool evening twilight. The shadows grew longer, throwing the scraplands into sharp relief. Jagged edges traced the barren soil, highlighting the blood red ground. Finally, Ben looked at his best friend.

"Del, I don't know what it is you discovered, but the Council needs to hear about it."

"The same Council that sent you out here to kill me?" Del shook his head. "They would not be willing to hear it."

"Del, I'm sure I can..."

"I think its time for you to go, Ben."

Obi Wan closed his eyes, heaving a sigh. Long moments of aching silence passed between the two old friends, an eternity of emptiness.

"I am truly sorry, Del. I hope..."

Del shook his head sadly, pulling Bella closer to him.

Obi Wan nodded, giving a weary nod toward Anakin. The two trudged toward their skiff, parked at the edge of a meadow near the border of the junkyard. Del and Bella watched in silence as their skiff lifted off and moved in the general direction of Glabra's main starport.

For a long time, Del stood there, not moving, merely holding Bella. When he looked at her, the deep lines on his face and the dying light from the sun made him look ten years older.

"Let's go home."


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Even now, images of those last days stayed with him. Memories consisting of glimpses and mutterings, snapshots of scenes both profound and mundane, all laced and layered thick with emotion. Events separated by weeks in real time but fused together as the same event in Del's mind, flavored by the same context and texture.

Her face, drawn and sunken but with the same twinkle in her eye, staring up at him with warmth and love.

Searching the mediports of dozens of systems around Aesculus, desperately trying to find bacta. Knowing it was not a cure, but a simple way to prolong the inevitable.

Not caring. Pleading and begging, threatening and cajoling, nearly blind with desperation.

The darkest parts of his soul whispering to him to do the unthinkable. Knowing the lesser fear of losing himself so that he would not lose her.

Hearing the beep on his communicator, filling him with dread. His father's drawn face. Te ghostly blue light faded with reality.

"She would not have wanted this for you."

"She would want me to follow where the force is pulling me."

"What good can come of it?"

"I don't know. I have to try."

The smell of his engines, overheating and nearly melting down as he flew them to ruin. Not caring that they could never be used again after he landed. Jumping and running before they even coughed to final silence at Glabra's starport.

Senseless desperation. Every fiber in his being pulling him home. Feeling their connection in the force wane, like a physical blow. Not even breaking stride.

Bursting into their home, immediately surrounded by the love of his family. Shrugging them off and going to her.

Her soothing presence, welcoming him home for the last time. Insanely, feeling better merely being with her, though she was dying. Her body betraying her. Touching her forehead, wanting to put her in a healing trance. Seeing her shake her head gently.

"Angel, it will take away the pain."

"I'll bear the pain. Just hold me."

Picking her up, carrying her frail body to the deck, sitting with her watching the sunrise. Warm rays falling gentle on her face, the cool smell of early autumn in the morning air. Heart aching, twining his fingers with hers as her breaths grew more ragged on his chest.

Soft birdsong mixed with whispered promises. Cool air in his lungs, on a hundred different worlds thereafter, which would always remind him of this. The feeling of her snuggling in one last time, whispering her love. Telling him she would be waiting.

The slow, indescribable agony of their force bond weakening. Wanting to follow it down, desperately claw and fight and bring it back by sheer force of his will.

Knowing that would only prolong her pain. The vast, eternal, overwhelming emptiness of letting her go.

"I'm so tired, Del." The words barely a whisper.

Tears falling on her nightgown. "Go to sleep, then, angel."

***

Numb. Half alive. Feeling the support of his family, crucial but somehow distant.

The funeral and services. Not as bad as he had dreaded, the constant busyness keeping his mind active, distracted. Making sure her last wishes were honored, having mundane things like fauna arrangements and music for the ceremony be the center of his universe.

It kept the darkness at bay.

Distracted words. Friends offering meaningless condolences. Making sure the people he loved made it through, though they were doing the same for him.

A world full of firsts. First night without her. First visit with his parents without her. First snowfall not reflected in her eyes.

Finally getting the services over with. Shutting the door to their home behind him, falling to his knees. Darkness everywhere. Suffocating. Emptiness like none he had ever known. Grabbing his lightsaber...

Finding himself in the scraplands. Moving without will. Destroying everything in his path. Hearing the darkness whisper to him, fierce and hot in his ear...

_Make them pay..._

Light flashing. Blue lightning and green saber. The only sound the crashing of thunder and the pounding of the rain, cold and hard.

Deathly green glow illuminating everything. Giving his entire will to the force, dark and hot and terrible. Constant movement, muscles trembling, exhausted, unable to respond to the will of the force. The sickening soft give of the mud as he fell to his knees.

Darkness everywhere. He felt it in the force, churning and moving and growing. Ravenous.

It felt like the inevitable.

Surrounding him, calling to him, beckoning. Emptiness, but emptiness with a purpose. A repose for his bitterness. Justification for his hatred. Strength, dark and mighty, waiting to be claimed. Waiting to be fed.

Feeling it climbing within him. Hungry for him. Offering him a home. It would be so easy to just let go...

So he did.

And he fell. Fell toward the darkness, to its ice cold nearness and bitter comfort.

Toward its dark, churning heart, diseased and twisted, shaping everything into a monstrous reflection of its true nature.

_Come,_ it seemed to whisper. _I've been waiting... Seductive as..._

_Quicker. Easier. More seductive. Quick to join you in a fight._

_Luminous beings are we..._

No.

NO!

Grabbing, flailing in the darkness. Holding on... refusing to let go. Somewhere, in the distance, his physical self was on his hands and knees, rainwater pouring off him, saber useless and discarded at his side. He felt all of it.

But he did not let go.

He could not let go.

Despite all the darkness, one light held it back. The blade of light inside of him where she resided.

Resided still.

And he would not let that go.

Not ever.

***

Much later...

"I have to go, Dad."

"Do you think they will listen?"

"No."

"She would not have wanted this for you."

"She would want me to follow where the force is pulling me."

"What good can come of it?"

"I don't know. I have to try."


	18. Chapter 17

**Part 3 - Vergence**

Chapter 17

Vader skimmed low over the giant dry dock of the construction facility, darting his fighter through towering canyons of durasteel cranes and mammoth, ship sized welding droids. Outside his cockpit windows his crowning glory was taking shape, much as his master's bloated vision slowly came together in a secret location half a galaxy away. However, unlike the space station's cumbersome and inelegant design, his ship would be sleek, fast, and powerful. It would be capable of striking everywhere and anywhere in the Empire and beyond. The galaxy would be its playground, and the fleet he would command from it would be able to project real power on a scale the galaxy had never seen.

It had been a familiar discussion between he and the Emperor. Palpatine knew that treachery was born and nurtured in the bureaucracy, and sought to minimize it and consolidate more power to himself. The Senate was little more than a ceremonial body these days, but eliminating it altogether would invite rebellion.

That is, unless systems knew precisely the consequences of opposing his master's will.

Palpatine believed the answer was the monstrosity he was constructing in secret, with funds siphoned form a dozen different carefully selected Imperial programs. Once his battle station became operational and one or two examples had been made, he reasoned, no system would dare oppose his authority, Senate or no. Vader wasn't so certain.

The ability to destroy a planet entirely was impressive, no question. But that approach lacked a key element in spreading fear: survivors. All that would show up on the holonet services would be carefully selected pictures of rubble, followed by the usual Imperial propaganda. It seemed too antiseptic for his tastes. Fear was spread through the idea of the familiar and anticipated turned violently and irrevocably unfamiliar... like a dark, terrible reflection of its true nature.

His ship would be just as capable of destroying a planet, or at least the sentient civilization living on it. There would be holonet vids of destroyed cities, ruined oceans, and burning farmland. Mountains would be reduced to rubble. There would be worldshot comparisons of before and after. There would be traumatized survivors telling horror stories of death and destruction raining from above.

That was how fear was best spread.

So the Emperor had allowed him this conceit, a Super Star Destroyer from which he could quietly project the dark side's influence everywhere his master deemed necessary.

And perhaps, Vader thought, some places he didn't

He even had a name picked out: The Executor.

It was all coming together here, in the massive shipyards of Corellia, under the watchful supervision of a few of Vader's trusted engineers. Though few, if any, of the other beings knew what his ship's class 1 priority code truly meant, those engineers would ensure that he would have an uninterrupted tour of his ship in his fighter. Not even his trusted engineers, however, had any concept of his true destination today.

Flying low under a construction bridge in the skeleton's superstructure, he hit a button on his fighter's control panel. From his starboard wing, a panel opened and a tiny droid appeared, flying in perfect formation with him and squawking his ident. Turning off his ident, Vader pulled up and away from the superstructure, angling for deep space. The ghost droid was programmed to continue to make lazy tours through the superstructure, so that any overly curious systems operator in yard control would continue to believe he was examining his ship.

Arcing outbound, he caught sight of Corell. There was a time when the mere sight of this system, and its five inhabited planets, was enough to strike awe in him. All of them had a planetary reupulsor installed at their south poles, by an unknown and ancient intelligence. All, it was believed, were brought here by the mysterious Centerpoint Station, an artificial world inhabiting a shared orbit with two of the planets. Thus far, however, efforts to unravel its mystery had yielded very little information. The result, however, was a system of five inhabited, resource rich worlds that in the present day formed the economic heart of the Empire.

Now Vader felt no such wonder. Corellia's orgins were unimportant. The power that formed this system paled in comparison to the power of the dark side, and this system, like all the others, would serve its purposes.

And for the past ten years, one of its purposes was to hide a treasure that was not even spoken of in his master's Empire.

Rolling his fighter and angling north of the planetary plane, Vader set his course for the Boneyard - the vast, ancient collection of derelict ships that inhabited an irregular orbit around Corell, well away from the main shipping lanes. This boneyard was as ancient as Corellia. Here they spent eons in slow, lonely orbits, waiting for the day one of their components or systems would prove useful to the shipyards far below.

Many of the ships keeping lonely station here predated the formation of the Republic, their hulls withered away by countless eons of micrometeorite rain, so insubstantial now that only the eternal weightlessness of their orbits kept their structures intact. Others were of more recent build, but improving technology and changing economics had rendered them obsolete. There was enough of them to pack their hundred year orbital path around Corell fairly densely, and several studies had been done to examine the possibility of widening the Boneyard's orbit, thus providing more space for new additions. The problem was nobody could come up with a cost effective means of moving billions of ships outward from the solar core.

It would be wrong to say Vader feared coming here. He was not immortal, and he had his ambitions, so he still knew the emotion. He also knew that it could prove useful, a powerful agent of the dark side. Had he feared this place, he could use it to his advantage, steeling himself with it, strengthening his connection to the dark side.

It would make all this so much easier.

Angling his fighter inward, Vader felt an expected twinge of pure dread. It had been a long time since he had been here. Since….

_Ten years,_ he thought. _They had all been dead ten years._

_You killed her…._

With a flash of impatience, Vader punched in a few buttons on his fighter's computer, sending clearance codes to a fast approaching derelict cruiser. This particular model had served the Republic well during the Clone Wars, but had been quickly replaced by the larger, more powerful Star Destroyers during the Emperor's vast military expansion at the dawn of the Empire. These cruisers were fairly recent additions to the Boneyard, but they were numerous enough to be fairly common among the orbiting scrapheap.

This one, however, held something that no living being in the Empire dared speak of anymore.

Reaching out with the force, Vader disengaged the locks on the cruiser's docking bay, one final precaution in a security system that would keep the cruiser in drift mode until some unfortunate pirate began to physically cut into the hull, at which point it would self destruct spectacularly. The codes Vader had sent prevented the self destruct from activating. He was the only being in the galaxy that held these codes. He wished he did not have them.

Swooping his fighter into the massive docking bay, Vader brought it to rest next to the far wall. Reaching out with the force, he closed the docking doors behind him, sealing them, making sure the cruiser betrayed nothing as it continued its slow journey around Corell.

Stepping from his fighter, he wasted no time. The faster this was done the better. The bay was utterly black, and only his enhanced vision enabled him to move toward the correct corridor. The silence was absolute, the only sound was the steady hum of his suit and his mechanically regulated breathing. The emptiness of this place would have been perfect, had ….

_No._ Vader thought. _Not empty. Sleeping._

Restlessness stirred at the edge of his perception. Fleeting surges and echoes in the force that betrayed the true nature of this place. Vader abhorred it. Too many memories wrapped and twined within its fabric, too much emotion still clinging to the cold walls.

_Master Skywalker, there are too many of them…._

The agony of it swept through him anew. Thick and heavy, nearly drowning him. The darkness was all encompassing, the evil of this place absolute. But he did not glory in it, the way he did the presence of his master. There was no strength here. There was only agony and shame and regret. Weakness.

_You killed them._

You killed her. You killed Padme.

He could not stop the voices in this place.

Without pause, he moved to the entrance to the cargo hold. Punching in yet another code, he stepped into the cavernous, pitch black realm. The force blast that greeted him was like a thousand sharp knives digging in to what was left of his flesh. Had his breath still been under his control, it would have caught in his throat.

_YOU KILLED THEM!_

From the darkness, a cold mechanical voice. "Identify for retina scan."

"Cancel retina scan. Accept priority override one-zero-one-one alpha mark two four."

A slight pause, followed by a whirring sound as the droid that had prompted him for identification brought the power up in the room. From one side of the cargo hold to another, blue and white light flickered to life, illuminating vast rows of computer storage devices, holocrons, and even ancient texts. Projectors and terminals filled a central area. Above, further vast rows of older digitized storage machines filled a second level. A thin layer of dust covered everything.

"Priority override accepted, Knight Skywalker."

"Welcome to the Jedi Archives."


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

It was a continuous source of amazement for Vader how ruthlessly efficient the Empire could be. All evidence that there had once existed a Jedi Order had been eradicated from the galaxy. The Temple had been razed, the active enclaves had been burned. The intergalactic media, now firmly under the grip of his master, had followed a brief period of anti-Jedi propaganda at the dawn of the Empire with years of deafening silence. Names of Jedi past and present had been eliminated from history books, studies of Jedi ways at academies and universities had been forbidden.

It was a credit to his master's planning that the fall of the Jedi could have been orchestrated to such a complete degree. There had been no outcry from the general population on behalf of the Jedi, no rush to defend its ideals and institutions. The long war had its desired effect - it isolated and decimated the Jedi while destroying the people's faith in the Republic. Order 66, while a brilliant tactical move, had been made possible by years - indeed a lifetime - of strategic planning.

It was as breathtaking in its scope and boldness as it was malicious in intent. And it had all succeeded brilliantly. Ten short years later, the Jedi were already passing into the realm of legend - a fairy tale told to children, perhaps as a warning against questioning the will of the Empire. Their history, tradition, and legacy had been completely erased from the galactic consciousness.

Except for here.

He had convinced the Emperor to allow him to keep the archives, in secret, as a way of facilitating his role in that same plan. If he was to hunt down and kill the remaining Jedi, he wanted a knowledge base from which he could research his quarry. He knew no public evidence of the Jedi could ever be permitted to remain - indeed the Emperor was unwilling to locate the archives to even a remote Imperial base that would need to be manned and guarded. This was a secret only he and Vader could share. The plan to hide the archives in the Boneyard was born of this necessity.

And so he returned here occasionally. In truth, he had spent most of the last ten years in pursuit of one Jedi or another. The archives allowed him access to everything he needed to know in order to be successful. It was all here. Mission logs, field reports. Video logs of important events. Personal holocrons that nearly every Jedi kept. Notes from masters on their padawans listing their strengths and weaknesses.

From here he had planned the destruction of dozens of Jedi.

And for all of its usefulness, he still hated it.

He could not control the voices here. Even though it was a thousand light years from where the Temple once stood, it resonated and echoed with the ghosts from his past. Darkness swirled here. Echoes of faces and voices he no longer desired to see or hear. It was perhaps the one place in the galaxy where Anakin Skywalker still lived. And for that reason alone, he longed for the day when he could send this haunted relic deep into the heart of Corel's sun and be done with it forever.

_Master Skywalker, there are too many of them…._

_You killed her!_

Vader closed his eyes, fought back the ghosts. Touching the screen, he delved deep into the seach files he had found on Serenta. Most of it was useless information from Windu on his training, and Council debate he was intimately familiar with prior to his mission to Aesculus. Kenobi's report on that mission, along with his own, appeared in one of the last entries.

There was, however, one additional entry. It was dated a few months before Empire Day, and was coded as a log from the Jedi Council. He and Kenobi had been on the front lines of the war, and events after they had returned during the Battle of Coruscant had precluded any necessity to catch up with news from the Council. He doubted it held any importance for him, but it was the only clue he had on Serenta after his encounter with him at Aesculus.

He called up the Council log for that day, and watched as a familiar blue hologram came to life before him.

Del stood in the quiet foyer, waiting. As always, the chamber was peaceful, the perfect place to meditate before addressing the Council. Briefly, Del recalled a similar moment many years ago, waiting to discover if his fellow Jedi deemed him worthy of joining their ranks.

_I wonder if that young man would recognize the one standing here now._

He doubted it. What is more, he doubted that he would have recognized this place, such was the difference. The halls of the Jedi Temple had not changed at all in the years of his absence, and enough of the faces were familiar to make his return cordial, if not necessarily warm.

The difference was in the force signature of Coruscant and the Temple. Coruscant had always been a haven for corruption and greed, even in its best days. Beneath the glittering exterior, the planet had a seedy underbelly that was buried, but undeniably real. The consensus was any planet serving as the capital of such a large and diverse Republic would naturally attract both the best and the worst that republic had to offer. Power was an aphrodisiac for the just and the malignant.

But it had never been like this.

The Temple had always been a shimmering bastion of white in a sea of grey, visible and obvious to any force adept. Now, the darkness was everywhere, overwhelming and suffocating. It seeped into the very stones of the place, dark and powerful. There was no place that was safe from it, no haven within the Temple's walls that were free of it. The corruption was a shroud hiding everything, dimming perception and smothering the light.

Something dark and terrible was here, on Coruscant, at the very heart of the Republic. He had felt it as soon as his ship came out of hyperspace, at the edge of the Galactic Control Sector. He barely remembered flying the precision approach down the planet's long space lane corridors and into the Temple. Landing in its familiar dock felt as foreign as setting foot on a barren planet beyond the outer rim.

This place was alien to him. Whatever the cause was of the darkness flowing in the galaxy, its source was here.

He found that he was not surprised.

Even here, in the quiet and soft light of the Temple's highest rooms, the darkness pressed in everywhere. It was heavy and thick, like the dense black fog of the Manora swamps on Aesculus. Unlike that natural phenomenon, however, this blackness was hostile.

Behind, him, he felt a familiar presence approach.

"The prodigal knight returns."

Del turned to face his old master.

"Hello, Mace."

Mace Windu nodded slowly at Del, showing no visible reaction at Del not using the honorific title of master, as former padawans often did.

"The Prodigal Knight Returns." Mace repeated turning toward the ancient painting Del had been idly staring at as he waited for the council to convene. "Incredible use of light and shadow, don't you think?"

Del stared at the painting, one of many works of art at the Temple, and perhaps its best known. It depicted the Jedi Revan returning to the Temple after destroying the Star Forge, beginning the work of rebuilding a Jedi Order that had been decimated by two bloody wars.

"Yes. I can never tell if the light is forcing back the darkness, or if the shadow is biding its time before consuming it entirely."

The two stood and stared at the work for a long moment. Finally, they turned to each other.

"Del, I want you to know I objected strongly to Obi-Wan's Aesculus mission. As did Obi-Wan himself. The council felt it was… a promising lead to investigate. I never did."

"It doesn't matter now. I have not come here to air grievances."

"Why have you come here Del?"

A long silence ensued before Del's weary voice filled the antechamber.

"The same reason I left all those years ago. To save the Order."

****

Del stood in the center of the council chambers, arms folded respectfully into his robe. His hood was down, showing the slightest touches of grey in his brown hair. His face held weathered and deep lines, forming what Bella had once called "a seasoned sort of handsomeness." He had chuckled and replied that was Bothan for "ugly."

Del smiled inwardly as the chamber came to order. Odd, that he would feel her aching presence even more here, where she had never been and where he had never known her.

"Del Serenta. Welcome, the Jedi Council bids you. Address the Jedi, you may." Yoda's eyes were, as always, neutral, but Del thought he felt a small ripple of disquiet from the Jedi Master.

"Does the Jedi Council have the time to waste on hearing civilians?" Kit Fisto asked.

Del had expected this. His departure had caused a great deal of suspicion and hard feelings among the Jedi leadership, far more than Del himself had realized. Enough that they had thought him capable of turning to the dark side.

"This one is no stranger to us." Shaak-Ti intoned.

"Yes, many of us were in these very chambers when he turned his back on us."

"That's enough." Mace silenced the group, which had begun to whisper quietly among themselves. "This has already been debated and decided. The Council will hear what Del has to say."

After further whisperings faded away, Del drew a deep breath and stepped forward.

Looking in their eyes, he centered himself. Some, like Kit Fisto, regarded him with barely disguised contempt. Others, like his old master, kept their faces passive and serene.

_Some things never change._

"Members of the Jedi Council. Many of you know me. Many of you watched me during my training under Master Windu. Many of you were here in this room when I refused the title of Jedi Knight."

"Few decisions I have made before of since have caused me as much anguish. I did not take my actions that day lightly. Nevertheless, I have never had cause to regret them."

"The Jedi were losing our ability to connect with the force. The Council at the time believed the phenomenon was temporary, and that in time our force sensitivity would return."

Del paused here, turning slowly, so he could look each member in the eye. Some were now looking distinctly uncomfortable, others interested.

He held out his arms. "Witness the result. A corrupt Republic. The return of the Sith. War. A galaxy shrouded in the dark side."

"I believed then, as I believe now, that this was not simply a natural ebb of the force. I believed it strongly enough to feel the force was pulling me in a different direction."

"So in my youthful arrogance, I undertook a quest. I decided that I would travel the galaxy, looking for the source of that ebb. I knew that by doing so, I could not fulfill my responsibilities as a Jedi. That is why I refused Knighthood."

"Hmmm Yes." Yoda was looking right into his eyes. "Found the answer, have you?"

Del returned his gaze without flinching. This was not going to be easy. "Yes, Master."

The room was silent as Del took a deep breath and continued.

"The answer is the Jedi Code. It is crippling our ability to use the force."

There was a loud murmur in the room. Several of the masters leaned over, whispering to each other, looking at him. Mace looked like he had been cut with a lightsaber.

"Explain."

Del knew the Council was not exactly revered for suffering criticism of its own actions. He knew many of them had no desire to hear him. No matter. Hear him they would.

"How many Jedi have friendships that extend beyond the Order? How often do Jedi make the effort to become visible outside of Coruscant? How many enclaves have been abandoned as our ranks have dwindled?"

"We are at war!" Kit Fisto was close to losing his composure.

"Yes we are. And because of that war, and everything that came before it, we have become isolated. We have removed ourselves from the living force. We are mired in politics and bureaucracy."

The room had gone deathly silent. Del turned to each Jedi master, speaking with clarity and passion. "When I left the Order, I traveled from star system to star system. What I found was suspicion and mistrust for the Jedi. We are seen as defenders of a corrupt and inept government, one that has ceased to care about those from whom its power is derived."

"Few sentients I met had ever even seen a Jedi. We are in danger of becoming irrelevant, more myth than reality. A cloistered order of warrior monks, incapable of discerning how they are being used by the corrupt."

A stunned silence hung over the room.

"And what would you have us do?" Ki-Adi-Mundi questioned. "Abandon the Code?"

"Yes."

Now there was an audible gasp throughout the chamber. Kit Fisto was on his feet. "This is outrageous! I will not sit here anymore and listen…."

"Sit down, Master Fisto." Mace Windu's eyes never left Del's. There was a surprised murmur from the Council, and Fisto looked as if he wanted to walk out the door. But he was not quite ready to defy Mace Windu.

Del stood at the center of the room, eyes on Mace's. Normally, his old master would have been a staunch defender of Jedi tradition. But he knew they both sensed the same thing. The Jedi's shatterpoint was fast approaching, and right now, despite all the successes of the war, they had no answer for the darkness.

Del took a moment to allow the room to come to order. He knew this was going to be an impossible task. It didn't matter. He had to find a way to make them listen. Letting out a deep breath, he found a center of calm within him, and allowed it to flow to every fiber in his being.

Yoda had been quiet for some time. Now he looked at Del curiously. "Understand, we do, that taken a wife, you have."

As always, Del felt the ache at the mention of her. "Yes."

Shaak-Ti closed her eyes. Del felt her gently probing in the force. He did not rebuff her efforts.

"Yes. We feel the mark she has left upon your soul. We feel the scar of her loss on your spirit."

Del put his head down and shut his eyes.

Shaak-Ti opened hers. "Your pain runs deep."

Slowly, Del nodded.

"The fear of loss attachment always brings." Her voice was full of sympathy and understanding. "Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads….."

"I was afraid." Del interrupted his voice barely a whisper. When he lifted his head, his eyes were clear and strong, the blue of his youth. "I was scared to death of losing her. And I lost her anyway. I felt the anger and the hate and the suffering."

"Now I ask you." He turned, addressing the entire Council. "I ask all of you. Does the darkness claim me?"

One by one the Jedi Masters each shut their eyes. Del's mind and spirit recoiled in horror at what was to come, his most private pain and grief laid bare. But it was necessary.

He felt a dozen force presences pushing at his soul. He had to fight every instinct he had, but he allowed all of it. He let them experience everything he was, all he had become. He hid nothing from them.

It felt like an eternity. Long after the others had withdrawn, he felt a single force presence lingering, as if disbelieving what he had found. Yoda's presence was ancient and surprisingly feeble, as if he wasn't sure if his abilities could be trusted.

Finally, he spoke. "No. Strong you have grown. Deep, your anguish is. But a servant of the light, you remain."

Slowly Del nodded, regarding them all. "Pain and anger and suffering are part of existence. So are joy and hope and love and yes, attachment. But the Jedi deny themselves all of this, in the name of the Code. As a way of safeguarding themselves against turning to the dark side."

"The dark side is strong. Attachment is dangerous. We know this from long experience." Ki-Adi-Mundi said.

"There are many paths to the dark side, Master, just as there are many paths to the light. Are you willing to close yourself off from one if it means doing the same for the other? Life is never as simple as a set of absolutes."

"Obi-Wan once thought I was Sith, because he felt how I had grown in the force." Del continued. "Finding my family, finding my wife… I don't know how to explain it, really, I am no philosopher…"

"But I am stronger in the force through my attachment to them. And if we deny ourselves this, if we turn our back on this connection to each other, we will cease to exist."

A moment of stunned silence greeted Del's comments.

Followed by chaos.

"You can't possibly be suggesting….."

"…. throwing away a thousand generations of order and tradition…."

"Do you have any idea of the implications…."

"I'm not going to sit here and listen to this wild….."

In the middle of it all, Del turned, looking at Mace Windu. For his part, his old master merely sat back and regarded him with thoughtful contemplation.

They were the only two beings in the room not shouting.

After long moments of accusations and insults, Del had finally had enough. Taking his saber from his belt, he held it over his head, hilt horizontal with the ground. Hitting the trigger, the green blade blazed to life above him, pulsing and humming with energy.

The effect was immediate. All conversation and heated debate immediately ceased. Del turned in a circle, seeing a dozen stunned expressions gazing back at him. Igniting a lightsaber in council chambers was strictly forbidden, outside of initiation ceremonies.  
>It was a rule no Jedi would ever break.<p>

_As they are so eager to remind me,_ Del thought, _I am no Jedi._

"My ally is the force." Del intoned, repeating the first lesson younglings were taught when they became of learning age.

"A powerful ally it is. It is everywhere. Life creates it, makes it grow."

Slowly turning in a circle, he regarded each master. The only sound besides the hum of his blade was the sound of his voice. It echoed off the walls, like something physical.

"It's energy surrounds us, and binds us."

Completing his circle, Del looked Yoda directly in the eye.

"Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter."

De-activating his saber, Del tucked it into his belt, and breathed deep.

"Re-establish your connection to life - to the people - and you will re-establish your connection to the force."

It was everything he came to say. It was everything that the force had taught him, through the people in his life who had mattered the most. It was the summation of everything he had ever believed in, taught to him by those who had now forgotten.

Without a word, he turned and strode out of council chambers.

They had kept him waiting for hours. Del didn't know if that was a good sign or not. Silently, he meditated, trying to discern the source of this all encompassing shadow obscuring everything. It was close, and it was well hidden. Tucked beneath layers of foul darkness, shifting and elusive.

And it was … eager. That would be the best term for it. As if something it desired greatly was almost within its grasp. Whatever was coming, Del feared that they were almost out of time.

Everything depended on what the Council told him next.

He felt rather than heard the door opening. Looking up, he saw his old master waiting next to the chamber door. Without a word, he rose and walked once again into the center of the room. Mace took his place next to Yoda, his expression betraying nothing.

Del focused his attention on the wizened old Jedi Master. For a long time, he said nothing, merely traced patterns in the floor with his walking stick. Finally he heaved one of his great sighs, and looked at Del. For the first time Del could remember, Yoda looked old to him. Ancient and weary. When he spoke, his voice was barely audible.

"Wisdom there is in your words. But abandon the Code we cannot. Change, we will not."

"Whatever is to come, face it as the Jedi Order we must."

Even though he knew before coming here this would almost certainly be the outcome, Del felt like he had been hit with a Gamorean axe.

"Continue as we have for a thousand generations, we will."

Shaking his head, Del looked sadly at Mace, then back to Yoda.

"No, Master. You won't"

Del walked with Mace through the halls of the Jedi Temple, toward his ship in the landing bay. He was lost in thought, functioning on autopilot. The enormity and implications of what just happened kept circling in his mind.

Finally Mace stopped.

"Del, I want you to know there was a heated debate before the Council came to its decision. Many of the masters heard you. If you had told me yesterday such a thing was possible, I would have never believed it."

Del looked at him and nodded slowly.

"Regardless of the outcome…" here Mace paused, as if struggling for words, "I want you to know I think it took tremendous courage to come here and address the Council. You have grown strong and wise. In many ways, your experience has been far richer than any Jedi's. I'm very proud of the man you have become."

Del nodded slowly. So much had happened to him since the last time he saw his old master, he doubted before he came they would have much to say to each other. What he found, however, was that Mace had grown in the intervening years too, into a seasoned and wise Jedi, far more patient and perceptive than he used to be.

"What was her name?"

"Bella."

"You loved her." It was not a question.

"I still love her."

Mace nodded, and Del turned to his ship. After a few steps, he turned back around.

"I think you know that whatever is going to happen, will happen soon ."

"Yes. We both know we are approaching a vergence. Events are going to transpire that shape everything to come."

"What you are looking for is here."

Mace's looked at him, puzzled. "Here?"

"On Coruscant. The source of the darkness. The Sith Lord that has remained hidden all this time."

"That's impossible. We would have known…."

"Mace, the Jedi are blind. You have all but lost your ability to connect with the force. Believe me, I felt it the minute I was in system. Coruscant is the source of this nightmare pervading the galaxy."

Mace shook his head, unsure. "A Sith Lord would be with the Separatists…"

"You have come to sense what I know about this war. It has been manufactured. It's true purpose remains hidden. Not everything is as it seems."

Mace nodded slowly. "More and more, I am starting to consider that possibility. If what you say is true…."

"Remember what we talked about before I left? A Sith Empire. A thousand years of blackness suffocating the galaxy. The extinction of the Jedi. Everything we feared. It's very, very close now."

"I don't know when or where or how, but events are about to enfold that will echo through history. Be alert. Be careful."

Mace put his hand on his old Padawan's shoulder. "May the force be with you, Del."

"And with you, master."

Mace Windu stood back and watched as Del ship rose, carrying him away from his boyhood home for the last time.

_Interesting._

So the fool had seen it coming. That alone would make him more perceptive than any of the Jedi he had dispatched in recent years. All seemed numb from their experience, and despite their best efforts at hiding, were almost relieved when he had finally found them.

Something else was tugging at Vader's consciousness, however, something disquieting. He was unconcerned with whatever combat skills Serenta possessed. He was certainly a competent swordsman, and as he remembered from their earlier encounter, he could be a creative and stubborn opponent. But like all the others, he would wilt before the power of the dark side. What concerned him was something on the edge, at the back of his mind…

He remembered Bella from their visit to Aesculus. She was beautiful, with dark hair and playful eyes. She reminded him very much of Padme….

According to the recording, she had died sometime prior to Empire Day. It was something they had in common.

_No. You killed her._

Vader closed his eyes behind the mask.

_Anakin, you're breaking my heart! You're going down a path I can't follow!_

No.

Serenta had responded to his grief by attempting to save the Jedi. Despite everything they had done, the fool actually believed they were worth saving. Now, he was force broadcasting his presence openly, inviting Vader into a confrontation. Obviously, he had no desire to live anymore.

If that was his wish, Vader could certainly accommodate him. They had both lost their wives, but that is where the similarity ended. Serenta had responded to tragedy with weakness. He had responded with strength.

_No. You killed her. You killed THEM!_

Angrily, Vader rose. Nothing more could be gained by staying in this cursed place. Keying the protocol droid to shut down the cargo bay, he walked the darkened halls back to his fighter.

He still had no idea where Serenta was, but he knew his weaknesses. When the time came that the two met, he would use those weaknesses to discover where Kenobi was cowering. Maybe then, he thought, he would be able to destroy this place and bury Anakin Skywalker forever.

The shadow moved through the black, toward the world of the living, on the hunt again.


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Del awoke with a start. The cool night air of the Jundland Wastes stirred fitfully in the small room. A few embers still glowed faintly in the fireplace, their warmth long since spent.

Instinctively Del reached out on the small couch before catching himself. Sighing, he rose, pulling on his robe in the darkness and moving toward the door of the small hut.

Tatooine had a raw, stark beauty that could only be fully appreciated at night. With the twin suns baking everything in sight during the day, most of its creatures waited until dusk to hunt. The Wastes were alive with the force signatures of these creatures, hunting and burrowing and foraging in the desolation. Two moons lit the scene with a dark pale clarity.

Glancing upwards, Del spotted the dim cluster of the galactic core, so distant here it only made up a small segment of the sky. Glancing to the left, he spotted a small dim glow away from the core, a single point of light in an ink black sea.

Aesculus. Home.

He slept fitfully these days. Often, the only deep slumber he could attain was those times he stayed awake to the point of exhaustion, when his body would literally collapse from under him. Most nights, he could not count on more than a few hours of rest, and even those were haunted with darkness.

It had not always been like that. There was a time…

Closing his eyes, he heaved a deep sigh. How fortunate, he thought, that he did not know what he knew now the day he lost her. The magnitude of the loss was overwhelming enough then without knowing…

_… without knowing how the hurt never really goes away, just dulls to a steady, dull ache, ever present._

_…without knowing the renewed feeling of that dull ache of absence every time he awoke, returning him with a practiced certainty to this grim reality from unremembered dreams._

_…the strange horror as the years passed and the weathered face in the mirror changed, so different from the one she gazed upon._

_…the hurt and anger that came with seeing life and nature twisted and perverted with the darkness and hopelessness that pervaded the galaxy._

_…finally, most basically, the hurt of encountering a scene such as this, stark and beautiful and alive… without her._

_12 years._

_12 years without her..._

"Bella will always be with you."

Opening his eyes, Del turned around, expecting to see Ben standing behind him. Instead, there was just the soft warm glow of the dying fire illuminating the hut from within.

Stretching out with the force, Del felt an odd, familiar presence. So familiar he had not noted it before. It was in the background of this place. He had associated it with Ben, but…

He closed his eyes.

Opening them again, he saw a shimmering blue form appear out of the ethereal nothingness of the cool night. As it took shape, it took on the familiar characteristics of…

Too stunned to move, Del opened his mouth to speak. No sound emanated from him for a few seconds, as he was busy trying to find his voice. When it came, it was little more than an astonished whisper.

"Qui-Gon!"

The impossible force presence of the Jedi Master smiled at him.

Qui-Gon Jinn always did smile easily.

"Hello Del. It is good to see you again."

Del felt desert landscape spin around him. What does the mind do when confronted with impossibility? Closing his eyes, he opened himself more to the force, as much as he dared considering the precious cargo this planet held. He knew even before he opened his eyes again that the force ghost would still be there. More than his sight now told him Qui-Gon's presence was real. What he didn't know was how it could be possible.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but aren't you dead?"

"Quite." There was no mistaking the old Jedi Master's bemusement. Del had no doubt Qui-Gon was rather enjoying this.

"You'll forgive me… but how is this possible?"

"Del. You of all people should understand that the Jedi, for all their history and tradition, have only the most rudimentary understanding of the Force. As do the Sith."

Del nodded slowly. "But … individuality after death…"

"… goes against everything the Jedi have ever believed in. I have no easy explanations for you, Del, nothing that will make sense in our limited time. All I can tell you is the Force is more wondrous and fantastic than any Jedi, or any mortal, could ever fully comprehend."

Del felt his face twist. "Yeah. Who could have ever thought it would lead us here?"

"Here?"

"Come on Qui-Gon. You know what I mean. This galaxy swims in darkness. The Emperor has won. The Jedi are all but extinct. Vader…"

Qui-Gon nodded solemnly. "What happened to Anakin is my doing."

"Your doing?"

"Yes." Del saw genuine regret in the old Jedi's face. "I was foolhardy and stubborn. I could accept my own death, but I could not accept that he would not be trained. I forced Obi-Wan to promise me, even as I lay dying. It was foolish and selfish."

Del shook his head sadly. "All the Jedi have to accept blame for what happened to Anakin. We all made mistakes, both well intentioned and otherwise. But ultimately, the responsibility for Anakin's fall lies with Anakin."

"Indeed."

"So here we are."

"Yes. And yet there is still hope."

"Hope?" Del was incredulous. "What hope do we have? This child Ben is protecting? And what do we do when he comes of age? Send him off to murder his father? I know what is in Ben's heart, and it can lead to nothing but disaster."

"Things are not always as simple as they seem."

"It is insanity born of desperation. And you know it."

"Then why are you here?"

"Excuse me?"

"If there is no hope, why do you seek to confront him? Why have you come here in preparation? Why do you continue to follow a Force that has so completely betrayed you?"

When Del said nothing, Qui-Gon continued. "Because you have not surrendered to despair. Not yet, anyway. You cannot possibly see how your actions can make any difference, yet you continue on in the hope that the galaxy will unfold as it should."

Qui-Gon's voice was barely a whisper. "Despite the failings of the Jedi, the foolishness of the Council, the treachery of Palpatine, even your belief that Anakin's child can lead to nothing but greater despair, still you continue."

"Why?"

Del stared at the desert floor and shook his head. The wind stirred the sand softly in the pale moon's glow.

"Because she didn't love a coward, did she?"

Del's eyes shot up, staring into the kind patient face of the Force ghost.

"Abandoning yourself to despair, forsaking the Force and closing yourself off to it forever… it would make you into somebody she would barely recognize."

"It would dishonor her memory. And you would follow what your rational self believes to be a fool's quest rather than dishonor her memory. Even to your death."

There was no question in his eyes. He was not prodding to discover if what he said hit home. He was simply stating a fact, the same way one would remark about the air being cool this night.

"And so, you will follow this out to the end. Because that is your destiny. And because you have a Jedi's faith."

When Del laughed softly to him self, the gesture was free of merriment. "A Jedi's faith seems to be worth less and less these days."

Qui-Gon said nothing. Del Sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"So why am I here?"

"You think I know?"

"I don't see any other manifestations of the Force around here. I know where I'm going to confront him, Qui-Gon, and it isn't here."

This seemed to take the old Jedi Master aback for a moment. "Oh?"

"Yes. I've seen it in my dreams. It's an ocean world with sharp mountains rising out of the sea. Barren. Perpetually dark. Completely dead."

Qui-Gon nodded slowly. "You have grown strong, Del."

"Not strong enough to figure out why the Force would lead me here. It would seem my presence would draw Vader, combined with Ben's…."

Del stopped. Something was stirring at the edge of his perception.

Qui-Gon merely regarded him with that same bemused look.

"You have an infuriating way of saying nothing."

"Obi-Wan would agree with you."

"That's it, isn't it? It's Ben."

"Your insight serves you well. Obi-Wan is … not well."

Del turned and faced the small hut, keeping his voice low. "He seems… I don't know. I barely recognized him, and it's not just the way this place has aged him."

Qui-Gon again said nothing. "He's bitter, withdrawn. I suppose that is to be expected, considering everything he went through with Anakin. But it is not getting better, is it?"

"No. His anger and resentment are consuming him. He no longer even speaks with me."

Del sighed, shaking his head. "I'm not sure what I can do. It's not like I have many answers for him."

"Sometimes, our connection with others is all that allows us to hold on to who we are."

Del turned and looked back at Qui-Gon. "That's not exactly in line with the Code, is it?"

"No Del, it isn't, as you well know. Don't let the Council's foolishness be repeated here."

Del nodded. He had long since let go of his anger at the Council. All he felt now was overwhelming sadness at his failure to make them listen.

"Del."

He turned to face Qui-Gon.

"I know the situation seems hopeless. I know that all those still living have a terrible burden to bear. But do not give into your anger. Do not give into despair. You remain a servant of the light, but that does not mean the dark side holds no danger for you."

"In the end, the only thing that can save you …. is the only thing that ever could."

"Qui-Gon…"

The force ghost began to fade. "The force will be with you Del… always."

The Force ghost shimmered and faded to nothingness, and Del was left standing alone in the darkness.

*****

Del waited as the first rays of the double sunrise began to creep over the horizon.

He was not really surprised when he felt Obi Wan stirring behind him. In the still dark pre-dawn morning, he sensed eagerness from his old friend.

Turning as Ben emerged from the hut, he noted the aging Jedi's hurried pace.

He looked agitated. There were dark circles under his eyes. His saber was attached to his belt, and his robe covered him from head to toe.

"Going somewhere?"

Ben looked startled. He was sure he would have trudged right past him in the dark, had he not said anything.

"Why are you awake?"

"I sleep fitfully these days."

"Yes. Well, I was just going out to check the perimeter…"

"What perimeter? This hut sits on a plateau. You can see for miles in any direction, when the light is up."

"The sandpeople are active at night…"

"Yes. And either of us would be able to sense if any of them were anywhere close. Where are you going, Ben?"

The sigh that followed was ancient and world weary. His friend did not look at him.

"Do not try to stop me, Del."

"I didn't say anything about stopping you. I'm just curious where you would be going when your intention was obviously to leave without my knowledge."

"You need to stay here, Del. Stay here and watch over Luke."

"So you can go and confront him?"

Silence.

"Are you so eager for death?"

Ben's eyes flashed. The anger in them was clear as he stepped toward his old friend.

"I would ask the same of you!"

"I go because it is my destiny. Because that is where the Force is leading me. Why are you going? Revenge? Suicide?"

"Because this must end!" Ben was shouting now. Del barely recognized him as he continued. "For ten years I have lived with the knowledge of what I did. How I failed him. Is that not enough penance for anybody?"

"I failed him when I could not save him from Palpatine. I failed him when I did not end his wretched existence on the slopes of that volcano. It's time for it to end. This galaxy that he has made is a perversion while both of us live in it."

"I'm tired. And it is time for this to end. One way or another."

Silence hung in the air.

Finally, Del spoke. "Your bitterness has nearly consumed you Ben. Take a look at what you have become."

"You've been talking to him, haven't you?"

Del nodded slowly. "Qui-Gon is concerned about you. I can see why."

"Did he mention that all this was his fault? We should have left him in the dust of this place. The galaxy would have been better off."

"Like you are planning on doing with his son?"

Obi Wan said nothing. Merely looked away, off to the horizon.

"All these ways we failed Anakin, are you so eager to fail him again by abandoning his son?"

"I'm not abandoning him." Obi Wan's voice was a whisper now. "You are here."

"That is not my destiny. Confronting Anakin right now is not yours. You know this."

"So much faith in a Force that has abandoned us."

Del let out a deep sigh. "It has not abandoned us. We abandoned it."

Long moments of silence passed between them. Del moved closer, placing a hand on his old friend's shoulder.

"You are close, very close Ben, to turning into something you would barely recognize. Your bitterness has nearly consumed you. You have to find a way to let it go, to find some hope again."

He could see his old friend struggling. "How? How Del? Do you sense any hope out there? How can what has come to pass be undone? How can we set right all that we have made wrong?"

Del shook his head sadly. "I don't know Ben. I have no answers. I will not fill your head with empty platitudes."

"I just know that the alternative, the surrender that you are contemplating, will seal our fate. I know it as sure as I am standing here."

Ben shook his head. "That isn't much to believe in Del."

"I know. But believe you must. Or you will become an agent of evil. The boy will fall into the hands of his father, or worse, his father's master. The galaxy will be lost to the Sith for a thousand generations."

"Are you so sure it isn't already?"

"No. I'm not sure of anything, Ben. I just know that you have to stay here now. Shield Luke. Protect him, until he can protect himself. If you fail at this, all is lost."

His oldest friend gave a disgusted grunt and turned away. Del could tell he was battling something, fighting something inside of him that had grown dark and strong.

"You can't beat him, you know."

"So I've been told."

"If you know you cannot win, what does your death accomplish Del?"

"I don't know Ben. I do know that I'm not required to win. I am required to fight."

Obi-Wan stood staring at the now visible sunrise, contemplating yet another eternal day in this place. Silently Del turned to leave.

Obi-Wan turned, staring at the retreating form of his oldest friend.

"Del."

Del turned, regarding Ben with piercing eyes.

"I think you need to stay here, Ben."

With a long sigh, his friend nodded.

Del turned to go again.

"Del."

Again those piercing eyes. Odd how he never noticed before now how clear they were.

"The force will be with you. Always."

With a slight nod,Del trudged off, leaving his oldest friend alone again in the middle of a wasted planet.


	21. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Del's hand moved over the controls, sending his ship spiraling up the huge gravity well created by Tatoo's binary system. He had just finished ejecting his nav computer through the proton torpedo tubes, sending it into the searing heart of Tatoo 1.

Removing the navicomputer had been a chore, especially considering the ship had to remain powered down in Anchorhead's crude dock facilities, meaning the inside of the ship had become quite hot. It was, however, necessary.

The time was at hand. His sense of the coming vergence was stronger than ever. There was no question: events were about to unfold that would have impacts throughout the galaxy, and it centered on his coming confrontation with Vader.

He did not know how those events were going to unfold, exactly. There was a strong possibility he would be killed, and his ship would fall into Imperial hands. Under no circumstances could anything on the ship lead Vader to Tatooine. It would have been a simple matter to have the navicomputer's memory wiped at some remote starport, but any memory wipe is only as good as the person performing it. It was well known that the Empire - and Vader in particular - employed the most skilled slicers in the galaxy.

So he had decided to send his navicomputer on a one way trip into the heart of the closest star. He had also purged his air supply, using reserve tanks last filled months ago. The tanks were not meant to be anything more than a last ditch life support backup should other systems fail, but they would suffice for this final journey. He had also allowed his ship to do a slow roll inside the star's corona with his shields down, only re-engaging them as his ship's skin threatened to melt. Such a bath of radiation should kill any lingering isotopes or stubborn microbes that might give a clue as to where it had been last.

Such precautions were, of course, necessary – but they did leave him without navigation. No matter. Exhaling deeply, he relaxed into the force. His hands slid over the controls, adjusting them slightly, turning the ship. His heart panged slightly as Aesculus swung through his line of sight, and slid out again.

_There,_ the force sang to him, as his nose settled, pointing to a pale blue dot just off the galactic core.

_So. There it is._

He took a moment to study it, at a distance, so utterly unremarkable. For the thousandth time, he questioned the entire strange journey that had brought him to this point. He didn't have to do this. It made no logical sense, and turning it over again in his mind yielded no additional clues, no new paths that might reveal themselves, that did not end in disaster, not just for him, but for the galaxy itself.

_You don't have to do this_, his rational self told him. _You aren't committed._

Even as he thought it, he knew it was a lie. He was as committed as any being could be. The decision to follow the Force had been made years ago. Everything that followed was simply a continuation. To stop listening to that call would be tantamount to losing himself. It would….

_It would dishonor her memory_ Qui-Gon's voice told him. _And you would rather follow what your rational self believes to be a fool's quest, rather than dishonor her memory._

_Even to your death._

"Well Qui-Gon," he told the empty cockpit. "Mace. I hope you two enjoy the show, wherever dead Jedi get together."

His hands flew over the controls, pushing the throttle forward, feeling the satisfying roar of the hyperdrive at his back, the entire galactic core starfield blur to starlines past his windows, and finally into the churning maelstrom of hyperspace.

Vader was growing impatient.

The pull of the force was strong. He could feel dark energy flowing around him, like a rushing stream. But he was blind. The darkness swallowed everything, preventing any kind of clarity.

Ozzel had, as expected, been useless. "No proof of Serenta's whereabouts yet, my Lord." As if he was looking for Serenta to fly directly down the Coruscant corridor broadcasting his ident. Vader had to specifically instruct him he wanted informed of all leads. Did the fool not realize he was under the command of a Dark Lord of the Sith, and Vader himself would be the most valuable tool in his search?

Apparently not. And the trail had seemingly gone ice cold. He had probe droids and Imperial spies all over the Aesculus system. They had turned up nothing. Briefly, he had considered taking Serenta's family into custody and drawing him out with them. Somehow, however, this didn't feel right to him. The coming confrontation was going to happen too soon for that.

Now, he felt it even more urgently. The time was at hand.

Moving to the durasteel windows at the front of the bridge, he scanned the starfield. Something was out there...

Slowly, almost painfully, he relaxed in the force. He hated this. He wanted to avoid this at all costs. But there was no choice anymore. Ozzel had failed him, and the Emperor was growing impatient.

He reached out with the force. He did not direct it to his will, as he so often did these days. He simply let it flow in him.

It was almost a physical pain.

Voices in the dark.

_It seems, in your anger, you killed her._

_They're animals! And I slaughtered them like animals!_

_No. YOU killed them. You killed HER!_

_You were my brother, Anakin!_

_What would yours say if she could see you on your knees in front of a dark lord!_

Inside his mask, his eyes flew open.

_Why didn't I see it earlier?_

_Serenta was on a suicide mission. He would seek me out._

Whirling, he strode across the bridge. "Captain Ozzell!"

Scurrying like a rat, Ozzel was at his side in a flash. As he often did, Vader barked orders without breaking stride. "Set your course for Mortuus Marinis."

"My Lord? Are you certain…"

"I am in no mood to explain myself to you Captain. Carry out my orders!" The fool was beginning to test Vader's patience.

He strode out off the bridge, back toward his quarters, toward solitude, his mind already on the events to come.

He needed to prepare.

****

With a slight adjustment to his approach speed, Del entered orbit.

He was finally here. Mortuus Marinis. The Sea of Death.

The churning blue world below seemed welcoming enough at first glance. It was not quite as water covered as Kamino or Manaan, with towering cliffs of jagged rock in thin ribbons along the planet's tectonic plates, but it certainly should have harbored a significant indigenous ecosystem. All the elements were here. Liquid water. A warming sun. A thin, rocky crust and, according to his sensors, enough minerals dissolved in its oceans to support significant biological growth.

But it was utterly dead.

His sensors swept the arc of the horizon, and couldn't find so much as a microbe. This place was truly one of the unique locales in the galaxy. And it had been abandoned and forsaken ever since the first hyperdrive brought ancient explorers to its dusty rim. It no longer appeared on any star map.

Except, of course, as a navigation hazard.

A monster lurked here.

Del adjusted the tint on his canopy, allowing him a full view of the system's brilliant yellow sun, and the dark companion in a slow, steadily declining orbit around it. The black hole was, of course, invisible, except for the rather obvious way it distorted space and the background stars around it. Mortuus, it was called. Death.

The reason the second planet was so utterly devoid of life was this dark companion. Every few hundred years, the orbit of the star and the black hole would come close enough for the black hole to rip matter from the star, unleashing a torrent of radiation that effectively sterilized the entire system. Any nascent life beginning to take hold on Mortuus Marinis would be instantly killed by this radiation.

The result was one of the true oddities of the galaxy: a tropical paradise completely devoid of life.

Which, of course, is why Vader had chosen it.

Del closed his eyes, relaxing into the force. He knew a secret lay hidden below those thick clouds. He had to fly manually in hyperdrive, no small trick given the speeds involved. His sensors detected the wreckage of several small freighters scattered around the star and black hole, some of them impossibly ancient. Smugglers, no doubt. This place would offer a welcome sanctuary for those that did not wish to be found. Until, of course, that one time when the slightest of errors on approach ripped your ship from stem to stern before you even emerged from hyperspace.

For a force user, however, this was a middling concern. Del concentrated, pictured the place that had been haunting his dreams for months.

It was here.

This is where he would confront Vader.

With a deep sigh, he relaxed into the force. Beneath the boiling clouds and lighting, a lone outpost beckoned. No navigational aids would guide him there. This place had been built by those not wishing to be found, and was currently inhabited by someone who had no need for them.

Silently, he pushed his controls forward, and descended into the churning chaos.

*****

"My Lord, I must once again strongly advise against this. At least take a security detachment with you."

"No, Captain. I do this alone. You have your orders."

Vader was in no mood to coddle Ozzel. He could understand the man's apprehension – if something happened to Vader, explaining himself to the Emperor would be very difficult and most likely fatal. But the hard reality was that in the larger picture Ozzel simply was not important enough to care about. He would do things his way, and the consequences to his staff were of no concern.

He climbed into his fighter with an odd mix of dark apprehension and thrill. He was on the hunt again. Today's quarry could lead him to Kenobi. Silently, he cursed himself again for allowing Serenta to lead him around the galaxy by the nose. He had no idea how Windu's apprentice had discovered Mortuus Marnis, but he would make him scream those and many, many other secrets a dozen times before he granted him the mercy of death.

The stakes of the game accounted for the uneasiness he felt. He had never been this close to the possibility of discovering his old master's location. Doing so would finally give him revenge, the burning desire for which had sustained him in this shell for so many years.

Revenge for betraying him at Mustafar….

_No…_

Revenge for putting him in this cursed machine….

_No…_

Revenge for Padme…

_No! YOU killed her!_

He didn't know why he could no longer control the voices, but it was becoming an annoyance. In any case, the coming confrontation promised to be a challenge, He certainly was not concerned that Serenta posed any real danger to him, but the fool was just skilled enough, and obviously suicidal enough, to force Vader to do him real harm before he could question him in earnest. Killing Serenta was not his goal. It was a foregone conclusion. Extracting his secrets, however, was not.

He would need to be focused and efficient. He had the dark side with him. He was confident.

Without further consideration, he sealed his fighter and sent it screaming out of the Executor's bay, plunging straight down into the churning depths of Mortuus Marinis' lifeless atmosphere.

*****

With a slow, deliberate pace, Del wandered the steel halls. Carved out of a jagged cliff, this place had obviously been built centuries ago by ancient smugglers. Nearly invisible, nothing was exposed except a small landing pad and a small overlook off the main living quarters. Everything else was buried in rock.

Upon landing, he had sent his ship hurtling into the sea below with a firm push from the force. Probably unnecessary, but it was the last precaution he would take to ensure Vader would not discover the secret on Tatooine from him. The Imperials could certainly fish the wreck of his ship from the ocean's depths, but it would take them weeks and tell them nothing.

Silently Del marveled at the utter utilitarian nature of this place. No decorations hung on the walls. No furniture sat in its empty rooms. The only allowances Vader made for himself existed in the small main living quarters just behind the observation deck. A small communications system sat along one wall. A small steel bed was placed in one corner, almost as an afterthought. A clear bacta tank lent the room its only color, the light pink liquid shimmering softly in the dim twilight.

But there was one allowance he had made for aesthetics….

With distaste, Del approached the far wall. At first, he had been confused about what this display was, looking so out of place. It was a case with a glass front, behind which multiple rows of different kinds of lightsabers were displayed. There seemed to be no particular order to it. It was only when Del had recognized several of the unique saber designs that he had realized what it was – Vader had decided to make a trophy case out of the lightsabers of the Jedi he had slain.

Del's eyes grew dark behind his hood. He had to consciously fight down his anger as he examined the case, each saber telling an unknown story of loss, horror, and death.

_What have you become Anakin? What kind of Jedi keeps a souvenir of those he has murdered?_

The sense of righteous indignation welling in his was palpable. Slowly, he relaxed in the force. Surely the coming confrontation would tax him physically and spiritually like nothing else in his life. No sense giving Vader an easy advantage.

As he clamed himself, something tugged at the edge of his consciousness. An idea came to him, causing him to smile slightly behind the dark hood.

_Yes, that will do nicely._

Reaching out with his hand, he summoned the force to his command. The bolted cover on the case ripped from it's mounts and flew across the room.

*****

Del meditated. He understood why Vader had chosen this place.

There was nothing here. No life. No ebbs and flows in the force. No churning river of light. Just blackness, Emptiness. A void free of happiness and pain, joy and misery.

Perhaps it was that emptiness that made the approach of his best friend's apprentice so obvious, He could feel Vader in the force as soon as he entered the system. Now, as he drew closer, the sharp lines and jagged edges of his malevolence became obvious. He had always been strong, but the anger and the wrath surrounding him now was something completely new to Del's experience.

It was still the Emperor that was the driving force of the rot pervading the galaxy, but make no mistake, Vader flavored it also. In some ways, Vader's force presence was sharper, more focused than what he had experienced of Palpatine on Coruscant.

Slowly, he rose, watching the fighter's approach through the windows of the main room. The ship disappeared beneath the ledge of the observation deck. He could not see, but nonetheless felt Vader's approach through the dim halls. He felt an unnatural calm.

Stepping forward, he drew his hood up and over his head as Vader stepped through the doors of the main room.

It was all Del could do not to gape in wonder.

Vader's slow, mechanical breathing was the only sound in the room. Del marveled at the Emperor's handiwork. All that armor, black as night. The round dome of the helmet, and the monster face in its design. He was taller than Del remembered. He looked like something out of a child's nightmare, and Del had no doubt whatsoever the effect was intentional.

He noted with bemusement that Vader's lightsaber was drawn and ignited, its blood red glow resting at his right side.

For an eternal moment, he regarded his adversary.

"Hello, Anakin." 


	22. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

For long moments, Vader simply stared at his adversary. It had been a long time, but Serenta certainly still looked the same. He still possessed the large, powerful frame that he remembered from Aesculus. His blue eyes were clearly visible beneath the hood that darkened the rest of his face. Vader could tell the years had been hard, as the lines and scars would attribute.

His voice, however, betrayed none of the world weariness that his usual Jedi prey possessed.

"That name no longer has any meaning for me."

Serenta waved his hand dismissively. "What your master has decided to call his lapdog has no meaning for me."

Curious. Normally by this point, a Jedi would have launched into all the reasons he should renounce the darkness and turn back to the light. It was born of desperation, to be sure, but his victims usually could not help but try to save him.

As if that were possible.

"You were a fool to make yourself so obvious to us. We were not hunting for you. You could have lived the rest of your life anonymously."

"That was not where the force was guiding me. You would have felt it too, but you stopped listening long ago."

"Obviously you have come here to die. It can be quick and merciful. You merely have to tell me what I want to know."

Serenta chuckled. "I see your negotiation skills are sharp as ever."

"Do not dismiss the offer so cavalierly. I assure you there will come a time when you beg for it. You know where Kenobi is."

"Yes."

Vader could feel his pulse quicken, as much as his armor would allow it. Still, the casual way Serenta admitted to this knowledge was somewhat disconcerting.

"Tell me now and perhaps I can arrange…."

Again he waved his hand dismissively. "You waste your time Anakin. I did not come here to betray my best friend to you."

Serenta made a slight gesture over his shoulder, and Vader noticed for the first time the empty display case behind him.

"I have relieved you of your….. trophies" Serenta didn't even try to contain the contempt in his voice.

Behind the mask, Vader growled a little. "Then I shall start my new collection with yours. And Obi-Wan's"

Behind the hood, Serenta shook his head sadly. "I don't know or understand what kind of monster you have become, Anakin. Frankly, I don't care. I do know I am bound by everything I am to fight you and your master to my dying breath."

"And so you shall. But I will only send you and your foolish idealism to the force after you tell me where Kenobi hides."

With that, Serenta assumed the classic ready pose, saber unlit.

"You want those answers? You want this blade? Come then, Sith. Take them."

Whatever he was expecting of this confrontation, a hint of arrogance and eagerness from Serenta certainly wasn't it.

Still, the fool needed to be shown exactly what he was dealing with. As Vader assumed the classic response pose, he focused for just a moment on the sound of his slow, mechanical breathing. The anger at being imprisoned in this shell flooded through him, focusing his dark side energies.

Kenobi had done this.

_No…_

He had tricked him and was responsible for his wife's death….

_No! YOU killed her!_

Closing his eyes, Vader forced the voices back and concentrated. Serenta had answers he needed. Nothing was going to stand between him and his revenge.

Pausing only briefly, Vader swung his saber viscously at Serenta's midsection. The pulse hum of Serenta's green blade igniting was followed almost immediately by the sound of lightsabers clashing.

The first volley was quick and smooth. Parrying Serenta's thrust, Vader slipped to the side and brought his saber up toward his shoulder. Serenta easily countered this, knocking to the side slightly with his counter and spinning, swinging his blade along a smooth arc. Vader brought his saber up immediately, catching the blow shoulder high and pressing back. He pushed with the force slightly, intending to throw Serenta off balance and force him into retreat. He was mildly surprised when Serenta absorbed the blow and calmly kept the clench tight, taking a step toward him.

"You are slower than I remember."

"And you are a fool. You don't really believe you are going to survive this. What would your wife say if she could see this suicide?"

"I don't know. What would yours say if she could see you on your knees in front of a dark lord?"

Another flurry of blows followed, hard and viscious. Vader was impressed with Serenta's skill – as was the case on Aesculus, time away from the rigors of Jedi life had done nothing to diminish his timing and strength. Bringing his saber over his head, Vader swung down hard, forcing Serenta to step back. Vader came at him hard, swinging with all his strength toward his midsection. Serenta stepped into the blow, holding his saber upright and absorbing the energy. Just as the blades made contact, Vader slipped his hands low, sliding his blade down Serenta's toward his hand.

What Vader anticipated was that Serenta would focus all his attention and energy on deflecting the powerful blow, enabling him to slip his blade low and disable his strong hand. It was a move that had worked against the better of the Jedi he had faced over the years, when a series of blows were required to defeat them.

It did not work this time.

Serenta twisted his blade hard to the counter side, using Vader's low blade angle to his advantage. Long before his blade could reach Serenta's hands he felt the hilt being torn from his grasp, and had to stumble to his right to recover.

The move knocked them both off balance, Vader moreso than Serenta. He had only a moment to regain his footing and look again for his opponent. That moment was taken by catching the briefest of glances of Serenta's boot just before it made contact with his mask.

The blow connected strong and true, momentarily digitizing his vision and causing him to stumble back a few steps. When he regained his footing, he saw that Serenta was crouched low, saber again in the ready position. His blue eyes regarded him coolly.

Vader's anger was palpable. The blow was bad enough. The realization that it might be impossible to disable Serenta without killing him was worse.

"You waste your time. The Jedi are dead. Your wife is dead. You will soon join them. I have remade this galaxy. It moves to the direction I dictate."

"No Anakin. It swims in rot, but it moves to Palpatine's direction. You do HIS bidding, just like you did Watto's bidding, and Ben's. You have never existed one day in your entire life without calling somebody else Master."

"You have no idea of the true nature of the force. You know the Jedi were fools, but you are not strong enough to embrace the power of the dark side."

"Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night without the faces of the children you murdered keeping you awake? Without the memory of killing your wife tearing you apart?"

Slowly he and Serenta circled each other.

"When Bella died it was like the entire universe, force and all, had forsaken me. Like I had lost the most important part of myself."

"But how much worse has it been for you Anakin? I would have done anything…. ANYTHING…. to save her. How much worse is it to know that you and your lust for power are responsible for killing the one person in the galaxy who thought you were worth something? How much worse is it to wake up feeling that emptiness where your heart used to be, and knowing that YOU were the one responsible for cutting it out!"

NOW Vader was angry.

"You know NOTHING of which you speak fool. KENOBI is the one responsible…."

"No! Don't even try that with me!"

"YOU killed her. You killed THEM! I don't care what you tell your master or your underlings or even yourself. YOU are the one responsible."

"YOU, Anakin. And all the excuses, alibis, deflected blame, and Sith aliases in the world won't change that."

"It wasn't Ben, or the Jedi, or Palpatine, or even Vader."

The silence hung between them for an eternity.

"It was YOU, Anakin."

Growling beneath is mask, Vader attacked. He felt the dark side surge in him, Serenta's words hammering home like physical blows. He swung his saber viciously, crashing his blade into Serenta's hard and pushing him off, forcing him into retreat.

He kept up the pressure. He was beyond reasoning now. He didn't care about extracting information anymore. It was time for Serenta to understand the true nature of the force.

_Destroy him! He deserves to DIE for his words!_

He would find Kenobi in due course, some other way. He didn't care at the moment. This fool needed to die.

_Kill him!_

_No! YOU killed her!_

The words still rung in his ears as he brought his saber down again and again, Serenta countered efficiently, but he could feel the dark side surging in him. He was on the attack. Serenta was in retreat, back toward the open doorway to the darkened hall beyond the living quarters. Again and again the blows crashed down hard. Maneuvering his opponent onto the dark narrow corridor would negate any speed advantage his armor allowed Serenta, and would surely bring this contest to a quick conclusion.

He felt his automatic systems increase the pace of his breathing. This fight had been taxing, moreso than any other he could recall since Mustafar. It didn't matter. All that mattered was seeing Serenta slumped over his red blade after he ran him through.

Pushing Serenta off a clench, he swung the saber in a high arc toward his head. Ducking and retreating, Serenta jabbed a feeble counterattack toward his shoulder, which Vader easily deflected. Rearing back, he brought his saber down hard on Serenta's yet again, driving him into the arch of the doorway.

Deactivating his saber, Serenta stood in the archway, red blade at his throat. Somewhat surprised at his adversary's actions, Vader hesitated. Serenta regarded him coolly, not saying a word, before seeming to glide backwards into the darkness of the hallway.

Vader did not immediately give chase. Long experience told him that defeated opponents were prone to desperate acts. Caution was warranted. Indeed, he could sense Serenta in the shadows. There was no escape for him.

"Your time has come. Do not force me to chase you. It will only prolong your suffering."

He got no response.

"Do you honestly believe you can hide from me in my own fortress? This is pointless."

Stepping into the darkness, Vader swung his saber from side to side. The red glow illuminated the cold black durasteel walls harshly. Blood red shadows retreated from him as he stalked.

"He loved you like a brother."

Vader hesitated. Serenta's voice echoed off the walls, its direction uncertain.

"He suffers to this day, and will for the rest of his life, because of what you have become.'

"He is a fool. In the end, he will die by my hands. As will you. Death is your destiny."

For a long moment, there was no sound.

"It's all of our destinies, Anakin"

Vader turned suddenly as a lightsaber blazed to life in front of him. There. Time for Serenta to di….

He stopped in his tracks.

The saber was blue.

It hurtled at him. He was momentarily stunned. He barely got his saber up in time to deflect the blow, the saber crashing to the ground at his feet.

Before he could assess what had happened, another saber blazed to life in front of him. It was blue also. Again, it hurtled at his head. Bringing his saber up, he stepped back and met it, moving his head to the side just in time to avoid a glancing blow.

His breathing quickened.

Suddenly, all around him, lightsabers blazed to life. Blue, green, yellow, purple … every color that had been a part of his collection. Stepping backwards, he brought his saber up and pushed with all his strength with the force.

It didn't matter.

They flew at him, right through his force barrier. They rained down on him, crashing into his saber, glancing along his armor. They were like accusations, like shouts of pain in the void. And they were relentless. He deflected what he could with his saber and staggered backwards, toward the safety of the light behind him.

And still they flew at him, pressing him. He no sooner deflected one than three more were on him. The burning in his shoulder told him one had pierced the armor to make contact with actual skin. It was the first of many.

Finally he reached the arch. The last saber crashed to the ground after searing his side.

And then Serenta was on him.

He didn't so much see him as felt him in the force as his blade buckled under the crash of the green one pushing it back. He could feel the force crashing around him, flowing into Serenta like a river of molten rock, pouring into every fiber of his being and out again, burning him like the lava of Mustafar had done so long ago. Serenta was lit in the force like a furnace. Not feeble and ebbing like he had been before - no, now he was hot and burning, lighting up the darkness around him. Not the pure white light of Obi-Wan or Yoda, but a searing orange, blasting everything within its radius. Waves of force energy poured off him and into every swing of his saber.

Vader had never before encountered its like.

Staggering backwards, he brought his blade up to ward off another brutal series of blows. His entire body ached from the effort. He felt the pain from where the sabers had cut him. His lungs burned.

But there was no mercy for him here.

Serenta came at him like a Buerillian freighter, relentless. Vader could hardly believe how fast he moved, how much power he could generate with each blow. The force energy coming off him was like something physical. Had he not been here to witness it, he would never have believed it possible.

The door to the overlook opened behind him, and he fell back into the pouring rain. Serenta followed immediately. Rain and steam hissed off of red and green energy as sabers crashed into each other.

He was running out of room and time. And he knew it. He could scarcely believe what was happening.

Stepping back, he brought his saber down and drew his hands back. He poured every last bit of strength in his battered body into a force push, just trying to keep Serenta off him for a moment. Waves of energy poured from his hands, distorting space and blasting everything that was not bolted down back into the wall with a crash.

Serenta walked through the force energy like it was not even there. He came straight at Vader like a hooded nightmare, bright and terrible.

Serenta brought his saber from behind his shoulder, swinging hard. Vader met the blow and almost immediately felt his weary arms and legs buckle under the pressure. Serenta forced his blade to the side with his own, and brought himself closer. Releasing one of his hands, he swung his forearm up, crashing it hard into Vader's mask. Stunned, Vader felt his saber slip from his hands. He had just enough time to stagger one step backwards before Serenta's foot crashed into his chest, sending him flying backwards into the railing.

And still Serenta came at him. Now Vader knew the desperation of his victims. The aching in every part of his body. The clarity of mental focus, and the inability to will your body to do the minds bidding. The dread of facing the inevitable.

With no hope for any success, he lashed out with his foot as Serenta drew close. He did not come close to connecting, as Serenta was in the air doing a flip over him as soon as his foot moved, but that was not really the objective. Pulling himself to his knees, he reached out with his hand. If he could just get his saber back…

He called it to him, and watched as it flew through the air toward his grasp. Perhaps he could ….

Stunned, he blinked beneath the mask as the saber stopped and hung in the air four feet from his grasp.

And then Serenta's blade was at his throat, one hand holding it steady there, the other stretched out toward his saber, holding it right where it was. His eyes never left his.

Desperately, Vader pulled in the force with every once of strength he had left….

His lightsaber did not move so much as an inch.

_Hopeless._

Exhausted, the dark lord of the Sith crumpled, saber clattering uselessly to the ground. Serenta's green blade hung at his throat, pouring rain hissing into steam above it, the only sound except for the very distant rumble of thunder.

He was beaten. He had no understanding whatsoever of how that was possible.

Breath catching, he looked up. Serenta's soaked robe clung to his frame, his eyes dark behind the hood. Wordlessly he stared down at his beaten foe. Vader felt the force energy pulsing off him, like something alive, thundering into him like a hammer.

Bright and hot. Burning. So intense he averted his gaze, as if that could shield him. And then, slowly at first, but increasing in intensity, dark swirls of pure malevolence.

_Ah yes. The dark side is insidious._

He felt the dark swirls mixing in, whispering to Serenta and coaxing him, voices barely heard on the wind and rain….

A flash of lighting, illuminating everything, including the barest glimpse of yellow in Serenta's eyes…

*****

_End this… End it NOW._

Del's eyes never left his vanquished foe.

He felt the force. Felt it now more than ever. Pouring into him, even here on this dead rock.

Vader deserved to die. This twisted creature was responsible for untold thousands of deaths across the galaxy. How many Jedi had he killed? How many of his brothers? How many suffered needlessly because of his master's appetites? How much bacta would have been available for Bella had he not manufactured a war to gain power?

And still, it wasn't hate he felt for this man. He still pictured Anakin in his mind as the unsure young man hesitantly asking him about love and regret on Aesculus, not this twisted creature.

No. Not hate.

_Righteousness._

That is what he felt. Righteous indignation for the atrocities he had perpetrated. All the suffering, all the death he had been responsible for. He deserved death, as much as any creature that has ever existed deserved it.

_Destroy him…_

_He killed them. He killed HER!_

He felt the dark energy swirling around him. It felt as right as anything ever had in his life. Yes, Vader deserved to die. And his master after him. He would be the one to make right everything they made wrong. He would take out the galaxy's revenge on them….

_No. Not revenge. Justice._

_He killed them. He killed HER!_

It was all right there in front of him. And it was RIGHT. The clarity of purpose nearly took his breath away. All he self doubt, all the guilt, all the regret, simply washed away. It was so easy….

_Quicker. Easier. More seductive._

Blinking, he let out a breath in the pouring rain. No… it wasn't that…. this wasn't hate….this wasn't anger… It couldn't be….

Didn't he have the right to be angry? Look at all that had been taken from him. What kind of a force would permit the abomination he had before him now? Was it not perfectly understandable to become angry in the face of injustice?

And now, he had the power to end it. This was why he came here. To show this wretched creature that there were those in the galaxy that would not simply cower in his presence. To hold him accountable for his actions. It was RIGHT to hate him for what he had done!

_Anger. Hate. Suffering. The dark side are they._

_No..._

Something was happening behind Vader, over the railing, the sea crashing far below. The rain started to reflect around something, forming the barest traces of an outline. Slowly, a light blue glow began to trace out features. He felt a very familiar tug in the force.

Very familiar…

_No…_

_No, it can't be…_

*****

"End this."

Vader was without emotion, without hope. He just wanted it over. He was beaten. It had all been for nothing. He was of no more significance than Maul or Dooku. He would meet his end in the same manner.

But Serenta wasn't focused on him anymore. He was focused on something behind him. He did not have the strength to turn around.

The saber wavered at his throat.

He heard Serenta stop breathing. Long seconds passed, before he heard a single whispered word….

"Bella…"

He saw Serenta close his eyes and let out a deep, shuddering breath.

When his eyes opened again, they were clear and blue, piercing out from behind his hood.

And at the same time, the torrential flood in the force that had been Serenta somehow got more intense. Waves of force energy simply blasted from him. The dark swirls that had colored it so recently were banished, fleeing at its intensity. It hurt Vader physically to focus on him. It was incredible.

He had no idea what had happened. Serenta was like nothing he had ever experienced before in the force. No Jedi, no Sith he had ever encountered had displayed that kind of power. Not even Palpatine.

"END this." The voice was the same mechanical drone it had been for 10 years, but Vader could hear the desperation in it.

Slowly, Serenta shook his head.

"No."

Vader looked up, betrayed. He wanted it OVER. "End this, NOW!"

"Strike you down in cold blood? Take my revenge and take your place inside that armored coffin? No Anakin. That is your destiny. It is not mine."

Vader was angry now. "Then WHY did you come here?"

"I'm not sure. I thought it was to kill you, or be killed by you. But… I think it might have been to show you, Anakin. Show you what you could have become. Show you everything you sacrificed because you were so afraid. And because you did not have a Jedi's faith."

"You know nothing. She was going to die… I was going to lose her…."

"And you lost her anyway. And yourself in the process."

And here Serenta stopped. "But you haven't yet, have you?"

He felt the force waves coming off Serenta becoming more focused, directed at him. He had no defense.

When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper, filled with awe. "No…. you've ignored it, hidden it from your master, buried it under anger and hate and, more than anything, guilt."

"But you haven't lost it yet, have you?"

"The remnant that she loved. The reason she gave her heart to you. Ohhh your master has done a number on you, Anakin, but he hasn't been able to drive that from you has he?"

"That's why the force brought me here. To show you what you could have been, and to tell you…. that the force is not done with you yet, Anakin Skywalker. Despite everything, even with all you have done, you remain….. The Chosen One."

"No…..NO!"

"Yes. But the grace you have been given is not infinite. There will come a time, Anakin, when you will have to choose, irrevocably and forever. And in that moment, the only thing that can save you is the only thing that saved me. The only thing that can save any of us."

Vader forced himself to look at him. Words were of no use.

"The blade of light inside of you where she resides. Where she lives still. Hold onto that and you will be saved. Let it go and you are lost. It's that simple."

"It has always been that simple."

With a long last look around the endless, crashing sea, Serenta smiled down on him. The playful joy in his eyes contrasted endlessly with the power emanating from his being.

"Goodbye Anakin. The force will be with you. Always."

With that, Serenta deactivated his saber and turned around, drawing his hood over his head further.

Rage. Blinding, raw, untempered rage flowed through every fiber of Vader's being.

_YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO END THIS!_

Calling his saber to him. Screaming behind his mask so loud the audio receptors did not even translate it. No conscious thought. Release denied. Torment extended. Pure, childlike, white hot hate.

The saber ignited. He swung the red blade with all his might through Serenta's midsection, roaring.

Two neatly bisected sections of robe and clothing crumpled to the ground in the rain. They were empty.

_What in the name of the force…_

He was beginning to question his sanity. It was real – Serenta was here. He felt the hollowing emptiness in the force where he had been, dark currents rushing to fill the void. The clothing was real. Serenta's saber was real.

He wasn't a ghost. He had been here. He had …

Mindlessly, Vader clawed at his mask.

_Still in this helmet. Still in this armor. Still in this prison._

Breathing hard, he tore at the hold down clamps and heard the heavy metal headgear thump to the duracrete. For the first time in forever, he felt the cool touch of rainwater on his skin as his mask fell away in front of him.

Starting up at the clouded sky. Seeing it with his own eyes. Here, on the only world where it was possible, breathing the unfiltered air.

Clenching his artificial hands and screaming his rage to the heavens.

_So feeble…_

Even in this state, even with all his anger, his unaided voice simply dissipated in the storm. He was nothing. All his power, all his anger, all his might…

_Nothing._

_You remain…The Chosen One._

Serenta's voice. Echoing with so much more strength and clarity than his own….

_No…_

_YOU killed her._

Vader once again slumped to his knees.

_Yes. Force help me… I killed her._

It was overwhelming. There was nothing left. That simple thought and the guilt surrounding it drove him to his knees.

And for the first time, he simply felt it. Felt the grief and the pain and the regret, let it wash over him. He did not try to control it or direct it or use it to fuel anything. The dark side had no answers for him right now. He simply let himself grieve. For his stupidity. For his foolishness.

For Padme.

*****

He had still not replaced the mask. It had stopped raining. No doubt his skin would need several sessions with the medidroids, even with the compete sterility of the atmosphere.

He stood at the railing with Serenta's lightsaber in his hand. Like an anchor. Like confirmation that everything that had happened here was real.

He had intended to add it to his collection, before…

Anakin shut his eyes. He would have no easy answers. The events of the past few hours would take years to work through. He did not have the strength to recall Serenta's words right now.

But he would. That much was unavoidable. Whatever happened here would be with him for a long time.

He brought the saber up, examining it. It was made to fit large, strong hands. Elegant and simple in design. Scratched and scarred everywhere. Beaten and dented through long years of hard experience, it still lit true and shone bright.

He had always collected the sabers of his vanquished foes for trophies. This was no more his trophy than Serenta had been a Jedi. Both were infinitely more.

Extendeing the saber over the railing, he let it go, allowing it to fall to the ocean depths below him, claimed by the constant maelstrom of the never changing sea.

From behind him, through the open door, he heard the urgent beep of the communication console.

His master's voice.

For the first time that he could remember, he ignored it. 


	23. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

In a cold sweat, Obi-Wan sat bolt upright in bed.

Gaining his senses, he felt the dreaded wave of his friend's force presence departing the galaxy wash over him. He felt the blood drain from his body. He buried his face in his hands.

_Del__…_

Throwing the covers from his body, he slipped on his beaten Jedi robes and stalked outside. As he knew he would, he felt a very familiar presence in the force. He stopped at the edge of the plateau, pointing his finger at the empty air beyond.

"You KNEW this would happen! And you let him go to his death anyway! How much Jedi blood will be enough!"

Qui-Gon Jinn's form slowly formed out of the cool night air.

"Del has fulfilled his destiny, Obi-Wan."

"That's it? That's all you have to say? Is that supposed to make me feel better at the death of my best friend?"

"It was not intended to make you feel anything. Your anger would remain, no matter what happened to Del. Your bitterness is consuming you."

"And don't I have reason to be bitter, you old fool!"

"Do you have more reason than Del did?"

Obi Wan said nothing. The force ghost let him stand in silence for a long time.

"Del did not lose less than you did, Obi Wan. He was no less betrayed by the Emperor and Anakin than you. Yet until the end, even in the face of his own death, he served the light."

"You are free to do as you choose. I can no longer help you. You will either find a reason and a way to let go of your bitterness, or you will not."

Falling to his knees, Obi-Wan felt the familiar press of his saber beneath his robe.

_So simple. It would be so simple._

Taking the saber, he raised the hilt to his chest, pointing inward, just above the heart.

_Just one little flick of his finger and it would all be done._

All the pain, gone.

Raising his free hand to the trigger, he held his breath….

And just as quickly let it drop again.

_No._

He couldn't do it. As much as he wanted to he couldn't. His friend had died following the force, like all true Jedi do. He had no illusions, and certainly no love for the force right now, but he would not dishonor Del's memory by taking the path of a coward.

His friend deserved better than that. And in a galaxy where seemingly everything and everybody possible had betrayed them, he would not betray Del.

Or Anakin.

He felt something odd on his face. Bringing his hand up, he brushed away moisture. He began to hear a very odd tapping sound all around him.

Stunned, he looked up and felt rain hit his face out of the darkness.

Rain. On Tatooine.

He had heard legends about such things and dismissed them as the ravings of lunatics out in the sun too long. And yet here it was.

Putting his head down, he let out a deep, shuddering breath. And he let it go. Let the rain wash the bitterness from him.

In his minds eye, images flashed. Qui Gon's death. Anakin's betrayal. Mustafar. The Temple burning. Dead younglings. Padme's last breath.

He let it all go. Let it fall to the earth with the rain, blow away with the wind. The only thing he held onto was the only thing that could save him: his promise to his two best friends.

When the rain ended, he opened himself to the force for the first time in a very long time. As much as he dared, he felt the ebbs and flows of the galaxy. It was still awash in Papatine's darkness. He felt its dark center and all the eddys and currents of malevolence and hate. As always, it turned his stomach.

But here and there, interspersed with all the darkness, was something else.

It was faint, it was barely noticeable underneath the overwhelming weight of the dark side, but it was undeniably real.

The barest whisper of illumination. A blade of light in the darkness. And it was centered on Anakin.

Fascinated, he examined it as long as he dared.

It felt like a new hope.

"Master…. what is that?"

He could have sworn he heard a small amount of awe in Qui-Gon's voice.

"That, Obi-Wan, is the turn of the tide."

* * *

><p>Much later.<p>

Stroking his beard softly, Obi-Wan watched the fire dance in the hearth.

"Master."

"Yes, Obi-Wan?"

"Did he find her?"

"Obi-Wan…. he never lost her."


	24. Author's Notes

**Author's Notes**

I suppose I should lead off with a tribute. Appropriate, since she was the inspiration for this story.

This story is dedicated to the memory of Isabella Marie Barontes - February 15th, 1977 - September 11th, 2004. Miss you and love you, baby.

The characters and events of what eventually became Blade of Light have been churning around in my head in one form or another for 7 years. Writing this story has been both easy and difficult - at times, the words flowed simply and easily to the keyboard, at other times squeezing out a single coherent sentence would take hours. I take solace in the knowledge that many of the writers in here far more talented than I have expressed similar difficulties. More than anything, writing this story has been theraputic for me. All writing, at least for me, usually is.

The character of Del Serenta is obviously based on me, or at least the idea of those qualities of character I wish I had. His first name is the first three letters of my surname, and just about every important location and person in his life is in some way representative of mine.

Del's hometown of Glabra on the planet Aesculus is taken from Aesculus Glabra, the scientific name for the Buckeye tree. I am from Ohio.

Quippa Major, great manufacturing world of the GFFA mentioned in the story, is a nod toward Aliquippa PA and the steel mills that once dotted the river shore there.

Carolis, home of the monks that kept the written record of the galaxy, is a tribute to John Carroll University, my alma mater, and the Jesuits there.

Del's family and experiences on Aesculus are all based on my own - my (late) father Anthony, my mother Bernie, and my sister's family including my nephew AJ (we've since added 3 new additions that I was, unfortunately, unable to work into the later chapters).

Bella Gallos, is, of course, based on my Isabella. Her last name is close to what hers would have been had cancer not taken her from me. Neither she nor Del are perfect replicas of either Bella or I, but they are at least distinct to and inspired by both of us. Like Bella, she was kind, strong, and brave. Like Bella, she faced her illness with a courage that, to this day, is just about the only thing that convinces me of the basic goodness and worth of human beings. Like Bella, she was taken before her time and like Del, that experience still shapes and colors my existence in just about every possible way.

So why Star Wars? That is more difficult to answer. I have of course been a fan since my father took me to see it when I was 5 (before it was called A New Hope). Perhaps SW is just a part of my childhood I refuse to let go. Perhaps I see parallels and contrasts between Anakin's story and my own. Perhaps Del is just an ideal, a manifestation of those aspects of myself I wish I possesed in greater abundance. I don't really have those answers. I do know that I never really agreed with the Jedi's philosophy of letting go of their connections and attachments. I know that in my own life, those connections are all that save me. Perhaps I believe that at the end of ROTJ, they are all that save Anakin. Maybe it is something else. I will leave that for you, as the reader, to decide.

The list of people who have encouraged me to write and to whom I owe my gratitude is far too long to include here. Please know that I am grateful.

And, more than anything, my thanks to you for taking the time to read these scribblings. The fact that some of you have enjoyed this story does my heart a world of good.

_"Yes. But the grace you have been given is not infinite. There will come a time, Anakin, when you will have to choose, irrevocably and forever. And in that moment, the only thing that can save you is the only thing that saved me. The only thing that can save any of us."_

_Vader forced himself to look at him. Words were of no use._

_"The blade of light inside of you where she resides. Where she lives still. Hold onto that and you will be saved. Let it go and you are lost. It's that simple."_

_"It has always been that simple."_

_- Del Serenta_


End file.
